Bart Simpson and the Boy-Who-Lived: The Series
by DaRick89
Summary: The hell-raising Bart Simpson finds himself enrolled at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Join him as he pranks both students and staff, shoots with his slingshot, charms everything, transfigures objects into animals, romances older women and teams up with the Boy-Who-Lived to foil fiendish plots! Currently at the eponymous Book 1!
1. Book 1: Indiscretions at Ilvermorny

**Author's preliminary notes:**

I am mildly surprised that there have been so few Simpsons/Harry Potter crossovers. Sure, the Simpsons are American and their show is but a shadow of its 90's heyday, but they are apparently still moderately popular in the US and their legendary 'classic-era' episodes stand undiminished in their greatness. The idea of Bart using his magic to raise hell within both the muggle and wizarding worlds while Lisa tries to act as his restraining bolt is also an amusing concept.

The portrayal of Bart largely comes from the Classic Era seasons of the Simpsons (IMO Seasons 2-8, 1990-1997). During this era, he was not only a troublemaking hell-raiser, but he was also cunning, resourceful, socially adept, street-smart and highly intelligent when the mood took him. After all, not being particularly academically inclined does not make one stupid. For example, he singlehandedly took down the highly-intelligent Sideshow Bob when he tried to explode Aunt Selma.

My A/N's will explain more obscure references to the Simpsons, as they crop up.

Obviously, both Bart and Lisa will be magical. Marge and Homer are No-Maj/Muggles (thankfully in the case of Homer – who knows the amount of destruction that he could have wrought around Springfield by using magic)?

After some deliberation, I have decided not to make any of the supporting characters wizards. Put simply, they would either not add anything to the story (as with Milhouse, a dorky kid with average intelligence and poor social skills), would seem superfluous next to existing HP characters (Ralph Wiggum is basically an intellectually-impaired version of Luna Lovegood; for Jimbo, Dolph and Kearney read Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle; for Martin Prince read Hermione Granger) or are otherwise hard to place within the existing HP universe (Nelson).

Although Bart and Lisa will initially expect to be attending Ilvermorny, the American wizarding school, instead of Hogwarts, they will obviously wind up at Hogwarts one way or another.

As to the various HP characters, they will initially conform largely to canon/fanon stylings; however, interacting with Bart and Lisa will change them considerably over time. Bart and Lisa will also change somewhat as a result of being exposed to a world which has a very different culture from small-town, provincial Springfield. The plot will also diverge from canon as time progresses.

Plotting aside, the HP/Simpsons universe will mostly adhere to canon, with a few variations here and there for novelty's sake.

Any praise and constructive criticism will be appreciated highly. Hell, I might be able to use more scathing commentary to try and improve the story…

BTW, I obviously don't own HP or the Simpsons, never mind both, otherwise I would have fame and wealth approaching that of Bill Gates.

Where I appropriate or modify lines and take plot cues from HP or the Simpsons, they deserve due credit.

* * *

**Book One: Bart Simpson and the Boy-Who-Lived**

**Chapter One**

At 6:00pm, Homer walked through the door after a long day of lazing away at the nuclear power plant and nearly causing two meltdowns. As he did so, he saw an 11-year old Bart and a 9-year old Lisa sitting on the sofa, with Bart in his Ilvermorny robes.

Even a mind as limited as Homer's could establish that something was very wrong with this picture. After all, Bart had only left to attend Ilvermorny that morning. Also, as far as he understood Ilvermorny was meant to be a boarding school, which meant that Bart was meant to be out of his hair until at least Christmas.

"Boy? Why have you returned from Ilver-whats-its so soon?" Homer enquired.

"I got expelled", came Bart's lengthy reply, showing Homer his broken wand.

"That's my boy", Homer replied as he went to the fridge, cracked open a beer and walked back out. As his slow mind comprehended what Bart had actually said, he then did a double take and shouted, "Wait, WHAT?"

"Don't worry, I can make my way as a lovable chimney sweep", Bart exclaimed, trying to head off Homer's rising temper. "I'll be as clean as a whistle, sharp as a thistle, best in all Springfield, yeah!"

"No son of mine is going to be some lowly chimney sweep! We're going to get you a wizarding education! And what the hell did you do to get yourself expelled on the first day anyway?" Homer demanded.

"As if you care", Bart retorted.

"Tell me now boy, or I'll give you the strangling of a lifetime!" Homer threatened.

At this, Bart relented and began to recite what had happened, reminiscing about the day's events as he did so.

* * *

Bart woke up at 7:00am that day to a clear, crisp blue sky. He was actually looking forward to his first day at his new wizarding school. Making the lives of his teachers at Springfield Elementary a living hell with his magical abilities, including using a colouring charm to turn Principal Skinner's hair pink and transfiguring a rake into a dog before having it attack Groundskeeper Willie, had gotten somewhat stale, as had hexing the school bullies to dissuade them from menacing him over his 'freaky' ability to perform magic without using a wand.

He had in fact learnt how to do this from a very young age, firstly to prevent his magical prodigy of a sister from monstering him, but also to get back at the kindergarten teacher who spent much of her time demeaning Bart's abilities. To Bart's pleasure, she had permanently fled the premises after her clothes mysteriously vanished from her person one day, rendering her stark naked in front of a group of laughing kindergarteners. Much to Principal Skinner's displeasure, he was unable to pin this incident on Bart because according to his classmates, Bart had not moved a muscle when the teacher's clothes vanished.

That being said, when Lisa displayed similar abilities to fend off a group of older bullies, suspicion around the two quickly spread throughout Springfield, with only Marge's intervention preventing them both from literally being burnt at the stake. However, much to Bart's undiluted glee, both were forbidden from attending church by Reverend Lovejoy on the basis that their powers obviously made them agents of Satan. Additionally, acting on the theory that both were possessed by demons, Ned Flanders constantly pursued them with his trusty exorcism tongs whenever he encountered them. Meanwhile, both had become pariahs at school, with only the perpetually oblivious Ralph Wiggum being completely unafraid of them.

Such pariahdom wore on the ever-social Bart, so it came as a relief when an attractive brown-eyed, middle-aged witch with hair in a brown bob came to the door of _La Casa de los Simpsons_, as Bart had christened it, one day. After the witch introduced herself as Professor Griselda Goldstein, she informed Bart that he was a wizard, duly taking him to acquire his robes, textbooks and a cage with an eagle owl that the shopkeeper had named Balthazar. Bart had originally wanted to acquire a flesh-eating bat to deliver his mail, but after discovering that those weren't actually used by wizards, he selected the eagle owl for its sleek facial features. He vividly recalled the exchange which took place between him and Balthazar after he had learned the owl's name.

* * *

"What kind of name is Balthazar? I'm renaming you Bart's Littlest Helper."

At hearing this, the owl clucked in displeasure.

"I don't think he likes that name", the shopkeeper noted.

"What does he care? He's a damn OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Bart yelled as the eagle owl used its beak to contort Bart's ear into a highly unnatural position.

"Ok fine, fine! Balthazar it is!" Bart moaned. "Stupid owl."

Upon hearing this, Balthazar set upon Bart again, this time trying to peck his face into a bloody chunk.

"I don't think he appreciates being called stupid", the shopkeeper dryly noted.

"How does he even understand me? He's a goddamn owl!" Bart exclaimed.

"These aren't regular No-Maj owls Mr. Simpson. Wizarding owls are highly intelligent. They can not only deliver mail, but they can also understand English", the shopkeeper explained.

"Great, now you tell me", Bart groaned. "Alright Balthazar; I'm sorry I called you stupid."

At this, the owl ceased its attack and perched itself on Bart's shoulder.

He heard a soft chuckle behind him. Turning, he realised that Professor Goldstein had been watching the scene with considerable mirth the entire time.

Soon afterwards, Bart commanded the owl to return to its cage, for he didn't want Homer chasing it out of the house with his shotgun. After that, Bart and Professor Goldstein apparated back to his house, an experience that Bart felt was akin to travelling in a flexible tube at warp speed. In other words, the most nauseating thing he had experienced since he had that squishee-induced hangover.

* * *

Focusing his mind back to the present, he dressed in his blue and cranberry Ilvermorny robes. He then placed his textbooks into his trunk and place his trusty slingshot and a few Lil' Bastard Stink Bombs into his pocket. After this, he levitated his trunk and cage down, ate breakfast, bade his family farewell and strode onto the front lawn as a yellow school bus revealed itself, emblazoned with the words 'ILVERMORNY SCHOOL OF WITHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY', revealed itself.

_Where the hell did this bus come from? And how can it fit so many students? _Bart pondered. Upon entering the bus, Bart quickly realised that it had been magically enhanced to fit as many students as necessary.

_Cooooooooooooool_, Bart thought as he took a seat next to some nameless wizard. Upon doing so, seat belts magically appeared to restrain both him and his cage as the bus suddenly flew up into the air and hurtled through the sky at Mach speed, stopping periodically to pick up students.

"Hey dude, won't regular people see this bus as it comes down or goes up? Also what happens if you need to take a whiz?" Bart asked the wizard next to him, who had an eagle owl of his own in a cage.

With a degree of humour, the wizard responded, "Nah, this bus is invisible to No-Maj. Also, there are two toilets on the bus – the seat belts will also come off if you say 'UNLOCK' but they won't do that if the bus is ascending or descending."

"Well, too bad if you're taking a piss when the bus goes down – or up", Bart slyly responded, to which the other wizard laughed. "By the way, what the hell's a No-Maj?_"_

"They're people who can't use magic."

"So, how do you know all this stuff?"

"Eh, my family are wizards. I take it that your parents are both No-Maj? Your town isn't known for producing wizards", the wizard mused.

"Yeah. Even if Hom-I mean, _my dad_, was a wizard, he still wouldn't know which end of the wand to use", Bart joked, causing the other wizard to chuckle.

"Anyway, I think introductions are in order. The name's Boot, Seraphinus Boot. My ancestors, Chadwick and Webster Boot, founded Ilvermorny", Seraphinus stated, turning to offer Bart his hand. As Seraphinus did so, Bart took note of his curly brown hair, high cheek-bones and dark brown eyes which burned with the passionate intensity of a thousand suns.

"That's cool. The name's Bart Simpson", Bart replied, shaking Seraphinus' hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Simpson. So tell me, what do you know about magic?"

At this, Bart recounted how he had used both non-verbal and wandless magic from a young age, going over some of his most impressive pranks, one of which included levitating a stick and transfiguring it into a beehive before banishing it towards Groundskeeper Willie, who was promptly attacked by a bunch of angry bees. At this, Seraphinus was both amused and impressed.

"You could transfigure objects into animals without a wand and cast non-verbal spells at such a young age? I'm really impressed Simpson. You're going to be a very powerful wizard if you apply yourself", Seraphinus enthused.

"What, you mean not every young wizard can do it?" Bart exclaimed with genuine surprise. "I mean, my little sister knows how to, um, transfigure stuff as well."

Seraphinus surveyed him with surprise before shaking his head. "No Simpson. Not even I can do that. That said, I'm really good at Charms. I take after my ancestor Chadwick in that regard. He actually wrote our current charms textbooks."

"Pfffft. I hate reading textbooks. That's more my sister's thing", Bart blandly responded.

Feeling rather put out, Seraphinus duly changed the subject. "So what house do you expect to be placed in? I think that I'll be placed in either Wampus or Thunderbird like my ancestors."

"I dunno. How are you selected?"

"Well, there are four: Horned Serpent, Wampus, Thunderbird and Pukwudgie." At hearing the name Pukwudgie, Bart burst into laughter.

Ignoring him, Seraphinus continued. "Horned Serpent prefers scholars, Wampus favours warriors, Thunderbird prefers adventurers and Pukwudgie prefers healers. I personally think that you'll be placed in either Wampus or Thunderbird."

Bart nodded in response, as Seraphinus engaged in a lengthy monologue documenting the exploits of his ancestors and family members. Not wanting Seraphinus to dominate the conversation, Bart responded by regaling Seraphinus about his various activities outside of school, including solving crimes, travelling to various locations and even causing an international incident with the Australians. At this, Seraphinus struggled to control his laughter.

Bart then asked whether Ilvermorny offered baseball, soccer or American football. Looking utterly perplexed, Seraphinus dryly noted, "I wouldn't know those sports from a hole in the ground. No, students at Ilvermorny can play either Quidditch or Gobstones. Quadpot is also popular in America's wizarding community, but it's not played at Ilvermorny – it's too dangerous, you see."

Barely containing his laughter at those names, Bart nonetheless asked what those games entailed, to which Seraphinus gave another lengthy explanation. Bart ultimately wasn't sure whether he found flying on broomsticks and beating opponents with bludgers more enticing or simply handling an exploding Quad. Seraphinus explained that his father had been a reasonably skilled Chaser for Thunderbird and hoped that he could in turn prove his worth on the Quidditch pitch.

At this, Bart decided to mine Seraphinus for information regarding where the school's brooms might be kept, for he thought that he could have a little fun with one during his spare time.

Oblivious to Bart's intent, Seraphinus simply responded, "My father told me that each house's broom is kept in a secure shed within a certain part of the Quidditch grounds to prevent them from being tampered with by members of other houses."

Bart was unfazed by this information; he had long since perfected the unlocking charm in order to sneak into places, such as Springfield Elementary teacher's lounge, and wreak havoc.

Bart then asked Seraphinus why he acquired an eagle owl. "Well, my family have used eagle owls for generations, since my family have historically been closely associated with the Magical Congress of the United States of America, or MACUSA for short, which has an eagle as its emblem. Why did you get yours?"

"Oh, I just thought it looked cool", Bart responded with his trademark nonchalance.

Before long, the flying bus had landed on Ilvermorny Castle grounds. Both Seraphinus and Bart walked into the entrance hall, with their owls having been taken to the Owlery by the groundskeeper beforehand. The supervising teacher, who turned out to be Professor Goldstein, explained that students were to step on a Gordian Knot in the centre of the hall. At this point, the large wooden statues representing the mascots of the four houses would react if they wanted the student in their house.

The name "Boot, Seraphinus!" was called out in rather short order by Professor Goldstein. At this, Seraphinus patted Bart on the back and said, "Good luck, Simpson. Hope to see you in whatever house I get placed in", before confidently strolling off. When he stepped on the Gordian Knot, the Thunderbird carving beat its wings.

At this, the Thunderbird house cheered and chanted, "We've got Boot! We've got Boot!" However, before he could sit down at the Thunderbird table he was directed by another professor to another large hall to obtain his wand.

At this display, Bart slyly mused inwardly, _Hmmmm. Seems that Seraphinus is a celebrity or something. Maybe because his ancestors founded this school? Anyway, he might be worth staying close to – maybe I can share some of his attention_.

Eventually the name "Simpson, Bartholomew!" was called out and Bart proceeded to the Gordian Knot. When he did so, the Wampus carving roared and the Thunderbird carving beat its wings.

After murmurs of surprise rippled through the Great Hall, Professor Goldstein implored, "Choose your house quickly, Simpson!"

Enjoying the attention, Bart trolled Professor Goldstein by taking the next five minutes to decide before shouting "Thunderbird!" in a bid to stay close to Seraphinus.

Seraphinus applauded heartily along with the rest of the house, but Bart had to obtain his wand in the large hall first. In the large hall he met four wandmakers: Shikoba Wolfe, Johannes Jonker, Violetta Beauvais and Thiago Quintana.

Beauvais had him try a 13-inch wand which was made of swamp mayhaw wood. This wand did shoot out some sparks when Bart tried it, but Beauvais seemed unimpressed and had Quintana hand Bart one of his wands, a sleek 15-inch wand with a core from the mysterious White River Monster. Much to Quintana's annoyance, this wand simply disintegrated in Bart's left hand, to which Bart quipped, "Ay carumba!"

Jonker then handed Bart one of his wands, an 11-inch wand which a mother-of-pearl inlay and a Wampus cat core. Bart tried to cast a levitation spell using this wand but found his aim not to be true.

Finally, Wolfe handed him a 12-inch wand intricately carved wand which had a Thunderbird tail feather as a core. He then fired at a table and transfigured it into a cheetah, which bolted from the hall with teachers in hot pursuit.

At the display Bart yelled "Oy vey baby!" knowing that he had found his perfect wand. From there, Wolfe simply shortened the wand so he could grip it more easily, after which Bart left the hall and sat next to Seraphinus.

"Congratulations on being sorted into Thunderbird, Simpson! I hope this is the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship!" Seraphinus effused.

"Yeah, so do I_"_, Bart casually replied. They then engaged in a little bit of wand play, cocking each other's wands back and forth, taking in the fact that they had nigh-on identical wands, with Seraphinus' wand being a tad longer.

After savouring the most sumptuous feast that Bart could recall and enduring a speech from Headmaster Agilbert Fontaine, a clean-shaven, stern-looking man with sleek black hair and black eyes that seemed to penetrate one's soul, the prefects led Bart along with the rest of the first-years to the Thunderbird common room, which was located in one of the castle's highest towers, christened Thunderbird Tower. The common room itself was painted in the house colours of red, gold and green, with a fireplace alongside several sofas and tables being featured in the middle of the room. At this, Bart thought, _cooooooooooooool_.

The female prefect then went into a long speech about what Thunderbird stood for, how students could best live up to such ideals and what students needed to do if they had any problems. Bart didn't pay much attention to this speech, instead losing himself in fantasies regarding Itchy blowing up Scratchy with a Quad.

Professor Goldstein eventually strode in and gave each student their schedule. To Seraphinus' joy, they had Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, with a spare period in between the latter two classes. At this, Bart evilly thought, "That's when I can have a little fun with one of the house brooms."

For Bart, Charms was a fairly prosaic business. Along with Seraphinus, he of course knew how to perform the Levitation Charm, having used it in many a prank, but he wrote as little as he could get away with. Transfiguration, as taught by Professor Goldstein, was equally dull for Bart, as he could transfigure the alphabet in his sleep. Nonetheless, Goldstein awarded Bart 5 points, despite being annoyed by Bart's proclivity for writing as little as possible.

Mercifully for Bart, Transfiguration ended, allowing him to try and locate the Quidditch grounds and therefore the shed with Thunderbird's house brooms. Before doing so however, he misled Seraphinus into believing that he was simply seeking out the nearest toilet, before surreptitiously casting both the Disillusionment and Silencing Charms to avoid unwanted attention from teachers and students. He recalled that those charms invariably allowed him to perpetrate certain semi-legal activities without detection, such as shoplifting at the Kwik-E-Mart.

After some searching, he finally found the Thunderbird broom shed on the Quidditch grounds. He suspected that these locks would be more difficult to undo than regular locks, so he chanted the incantation for the unlocking charm that he had only recently learnt about in his newly-acquired textbook, "_Alohomora Duo!"_ duly opening the lock and allowing Bart to sneak into the shed before leaving the door partially closed.

He then examined the brooms. Finally, he laid his eyes upon the house's newest broom; the Cleansweep Seven.

All of a sudden, Bart 'heard' the broom in question calling out to him, "Hey Bart; I'm Mandy, fly me!"

_Eh, maaaayyyyyyybe I shouldn't_, Bart thought to himself, having second thoughts about the endeavour.

"What, aren't you a real man Barty boy? Do you like getting it on with boys instead of girls?" Mandy taunted.

At this, Bart bristled and narrowed his eyes at the broom. "Let's go_",_ Bart commanded.

"Now you're talking", Mandy purred as Bart took the broom off the wall and sat on it, holding it in a death grip.

"Ready?_" _the Cleansweep seductively asked.

"Whenever you are, baby."

At this, the broom shot out of the shed at frightening speed, blasting the door off its hinges and leaving Bart clinging onto the broom for dear life while screaming for the divine intervention of every deity that came to mind. Indeed, the broom more or less had its way with Bart, dragging him around the Quidditch grounds like a particularly hyperactive dog would drag its owner.

Unfortunately, while Mandy was busy treating Bart like a ragdoll, Headmaster Fontaine and Professor Goldstein had come out to inspect the grounds, with both having their back to Bart. Seeing something on the ground, Fontaine bent over to determine what it was.

To Bart's horror, Mandy suddenly straightened, sending both the broom and the terrified boy clutching on to it on a collision course with Fontaine's posterior. At this point, Professor Goldstein saw Mandy coming and shouted to the heavens, but by then it was too late – Mandy crashed into Headmaster Fontaine's behind with a comical KAPOW!

Bart was thrown a short distance when this happened and almost immediately fell unconscious, with his last thoughts being filled with dread regarding what the two professors would do to him once he regained consciousness.

Regrettably for Bart, his worst fears came to pass as soon as he regained consciousness in the infirmary, with Headmaster Fontaine, Professor Goldstein and another man that he did not recognise looking over him. Headmaster Fontaine in particular looked like he wanted nothing more than to flay Bart alive, but instead elected to allow the unknown man to make a statement. The man, who introduced himself as Tychus Tolliver from MACUSA while twirling Bart's wand like a plaything, stated as such:

"Mr. Simpson, Ilvermorny is a school which holds itself to the highest behavioural standards. The truth is, Headmaster Fontaine had reservations about allowing you to attend this hallowed institution because your antics are somewhat…legendary among the wizarding teaching community. He knew about the various feats of magic that you've used to terrorise your No-Maj primary school teachers. However, he believed that all American wizarding students should be granted an opportunity to attend Ilvermorny and so he decided to give you the benefit of the doubt.

Unfortunately, he now believes, and I am minded to agree, that this benefit has been misplaced and that you are incapable of adhering to this school's behavioural standards. You are hereby expelled from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and so I will have to snap your wand.

However, while you will be forbidden from attending a wizarding school within the United States as per Congressional regulations, Headmaster Fontaine has generously allowed you to attend a wizarding school overseas, for he believes that your magical talent may eventually benefit the global wizarding community."

At this, Tolliver gripped Bart's wand, with Bart's eyes bugging out like saucers as the lovingly crafted wand slowly began to creak under the pressure Tolliver was applying to it. Eventually, it discreetly snapped, although to Bart's delicate ears it may as well have sounded like a gunshot, because his ability to practice wand magic was for the time being terminated with extreme prejudice.

After this had occurred, Tolliver and Headmaster Fontaine left the infirmary and the matron gave him a bone-healing potion and cast a concussion-healing charm on him. After this, Professor Goldstein unceremoniously dragged him out of bed, took him to Thunderbird Tower to collect his belongings, to the Owlery to collect Balthazar, and then out of the school grounds. She then apparated with Bart to his house and left him standing outside the front door, at which point he walked in to face the music.

* * *

After recounting his story, Bart stopped to look at Homer, who had a look of pure rage etched upon his face. He then uttered, "Why…you…little!" before choking Bart like a chicken.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter One:**

Bart's antics being legendary among the wizarding teaching community is a reference to 'Special Edna', wherein it is discovered that his actions have made him a legend among the No-Maj teaching community.

Bart being able to transfigure is inspired by 'Treehouse of Horror II: The Bart Zone'.

Bart's ability to cast charms/hexes non-verbally/wandlessly will be explained in later chapters. Bart only having very recently learned the actual incantations for spells is to be expected since it would not be easy, if at all possible, for Bart and Lisa to acquire any wizarding books on the topic, given how their parents are No-Maj/Muggles. Just because one can use controlled magic verbally/non-wandlessly does not mean they know any specific incantations, as Tom Riddle proved. I just realised this and made some minor edits to that effect.

BTW, Bart might not be very studious in general, but he is eager to learn if it helps him accomplish a specific goal, such as pranking people, which the Unlocking Charm incantation would.

While this is never made clear in canon, I would assume that Professor McGonagall apparated to Hermione's house to deliver her letter personally since she was a Muggle-born, so I have had Professor Goldstein do the same here.


	2. Book 1: A Day Out with Dumbledore

**Chapter Two**

Upon hearing the commotion in the living room, Marge ran out from the kitchen.

"Homer, stop that!_" _Marge admonished. "Bart has already told Lisa and me what happened. It's not the end of the world; he's been expelled before and yet has managed to receive an education from somewhere. We'll just have to sit down with him and find that particular somewhere."

Inwardly realising that Marge was right, Homer stopped choking Bart, but Bart could do nothing but give Homer the most murderous glare that he could muster.

Homer chose to ignore Bart's glare and walked to the dinner table in order to begin eating dinner. Bart followed him while Lisa grabbed Bart's recently-acquired copy of _Modern Magical History_, which she figured would contain an overview of modern-era wizarding schools. To her satisfaction, she was proven correct.

Eventually, after the family had finished eating, they all sat down and watched Lisa rifle through the book.

"According to this book, there are eight known wizarding schools. The first one is called Beauxbatons, in France. You speak French Bart, so you'd fit right in."

Bart remembered exactly when and why he had learnt to speak French – in response to the criminals Cesar and Ugolin brutalising him constantly by starving him and making him drink wine laced with antifreeze while he was on his exchange trip. Bart shuddered at the memory and immediately talked Lisa out of the idea.

"No thanks Lis. I'm not interested in spending much time in France again. Besides, those uniforms…" Bart burst out laughing at the pale blue robes. When Homer saw them, he joined in heartily and make some choice remarks of his own.

"HAHAHAHAHAH, they look like a bunch of fruits!" Homer exclaimed.

In disgust, Lisa noted to herself, "Well, I guess Beauxbatons is out. Hey, what about Castelobruxo in Brazil?_"_

"Lis, I don't speak Portuguese or Spanish. Besides, remember when we last went to Brazil? Homer and I got robbed, Homer was kidnapped and I had to fight my way out of a snake", Bart swiftly countered.

"Besides, what sort of stupid name is Castelobruxo or whatever it's called? It just makes me go BRUH BRUH BRUH BRUH BRUH!" Homer sagaciously contributed, to which Bart laughed.

"Well, let's see…Durmstrang doesn't admit No-Maj. So the next alternative is Hogwarts, in Scotland", Lisa continued.

At hearing the name 'Hogwarts' Bart and Homer laughed uproariously. "HOGWARTS? That's the dumbest name I've heard yet. What, do the students call themselves warthogs? Is it nicknamed 'Pig Pimples' as well?" Homer mockingly asked, snorting like a hog in the process and eliciting more laughs out of Bart.

Choosing to ignore Homer's mockery, Lisa continued. "The headmaster is Albus Dumbledore. He's widely regarded as the best living wizard in the world – even more so than Agilbert Fontaine", Lisa enthusiastically noted.

Unfortunately, hearing the name Dumbledore was enough to set Bart and Homer off. "Dumbledore? More like Dumble-ass!" Homer snidely remarked.

At this point, Marge had grown tired of Bart and Homer's colour commentary and overruled them by exclaiming, "That's it! You two have made a mockery of this whole process for long enough! Bart, I'm going to try and get you into Hogwarts and that's final! I'll write a letter tonight to Headmaster Dumbledore explaining your situation. Hopefully he'll understand."

"I'm sure he will Mum; the book even notes how generous in spirit Headmaster Dumbledore is. I'll help you write the letter tonight", Lisa offered in a reassuring tone.

"Well, I hope you're right honey", Marge wearily murmured, already feeling worn out by the process of relocating Bart to another school.

Later that night, Marge and Lisa sat down at Lisa's desk and penned a letter to Headmaster Dumbledore, which was as follows:

_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_My name is Marge Simpson and I have a son named Bart. Bart has apparently been able to perform some very impressive feats of magic from a very young age. If his school principal is telling me the truth, he can perform magic without moving a muscle, he can transform objects into animals or beehives, he can lift objects and direct them towards people without touching them, he can make clothes vanish, he can unlock doors without a key, he can change the colour of somebody's hair and he can give people skin infections. I have seen some strange things around the house, but until very recently I wasn't sure if that was magic or me simply imagining things. _

_Normally, Bart would be attending Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but as of today that is no longer the case. Unfortunately, he got expelled after stealing a broom from his house's broom shed and crashing into Ilvermorny's headmaster. I don't believe that makes him a bad child though. In fact I know that Bart is a good boy at heart. He just has a spark which makes him do bad things from time to time. _

_Please give my special little guy a chance to use his magical talents to benefit the wizarding world. I know that he can with the right guidance – he even took down a master criminal all by himself. His talents have already caused his peers to shun him and he's really depressed about that because he's a boy who needs to socialise with other children his age. _

_Frankly, I am also worried about his safety in Springfield. The town have already tried to burn him and his younger sister alive over their magical talents, the local reverend thinks that they are Satanic and our next door neighbour chases them constantly with his exorcism tongs. _

_Again, please give Bart a chance._

_Kind regards,_

_Marge Simpson_

While writing the letter, Lisa and Marge quibbled over exactly what details to include. Marge was reluctant to discuss how the town wanted to burn her children alive because she saw that occasion as a great embarrassment for the Simpson family, but Lisa informed her that they needed to try and manipulate Dumbledore into allowing Bart into Hogwarts. What better way to do so than to infer that his life and therefore wizarding talent was being endangered by a bunch of provincial No-Maj?

Lisa also thought that the line, "please give Bart a chance", resonated as much as John Lennon's exhortation to "give peace a chance" several decades prior did and asked Marge to end the letter with that particular line. Marge eventually acceded to Lisa's requests and went over to Bart's room, wherein Bart was sitting on the bed and sulking.

"Honey, would you mind having Balthazar deliver this owl to Hogwarts?" Marge requested.

"Mum, I don't really want to go to Scotland, especially to a school named HOG-WARTS", Bart responded, taking care to emphasise each syllable of the school's name in his mockery.

"Sweetie, this is your best chance to make some friends and show your magic off to other people", Marge encouraged, playing on Bart's perpetual need for attention. True to her expectations, Bart perked up at this. "I also know that you enjoy learning new magic tricks and you'll be able to do that at Hogwarts. You'll also be able to get away from this town, its witch-burning people, our narrow-minded Reverend and our crazy tong-wielding neighbour."

Bart accepted this point and relented saying, "Alright Mum. For you."

"Thanks sweetheart", Marge responded as she hugged Bart, after which Bart walked over to Balthazar, who was perched on Bart's windowsill, and gave him Marge's letter. Before Bart could utter the word "HOGWARTS" Balthazar flew off.

_How did he know where to send the letter? Can he read English too? Oh well, a mystery for another day I guess._

At seeing Balthazar fly off, Marge smiled, left Bart's room and went back to Lisa.

"He sent the letter off, dear", Marge informed Lisa.

"Ah, poor predictable Bart. I knew that playing on his need for attention would do the trick", Lisa slyly noted.

"Do you want to attend Hogwarts when you're old enough?"

"Well, Bart does bug me a lot. On the other hand, he was the only person who kept me from quitting the last boarding school I attended", stated Lisa, remembering her sojourn at the military academy without any fondness. "Yeah I'll attend. If I have real problems, I know that Bart will have my back", Lisa stated with finality.

"It's good that you think of your brother in that way, dear", Marge tenderly responded.

"Please don't mention it, Mum", Lisa sourly replied.

Marge then went down to the living room and told Homer what she did. After collapsing into yet another fit of laughter at hearing the name Hogwarts, Homer got behind the idea on the basis that Bart wouldn't be around to annoy him for at least a little while.

* * *

A few days later, at around 5:45pm, Marge heard a crack and a polite knock at the door. When she opened the door, there stood a man with a long beard, half-moon glasses and twinkling eyes that seemed to survey the area with a mixture of amusement and perception. Although he was dressed in a fashionable No-Maj suit, Marge immediately realised whom this was.

"Headmaster Dumbledore? How did you get my letter so quickly? How did you even know that Bart lives here?" Marge gasped in surprise.

"Oh we have our ways of speedily delivering mail and locating the home of young wizards, Mrs. Simpson", Headmaster Dumbledore cryptically responded. "May I come in?"

"Absolutely", Marge sputtered, allowing the professor into the living room.

"I received your letter Mrs. Simpson, and I was moved by your plea on behalf of your son. I must say that his antics have already become legend among the wizarding teaching community. I have no doubt that his principal's suspicions are entirely correct and that your son is an incredibly gifted wizard for his age, particularly for somebody with no magical parents. Enough so, in fact, that I thought that I would come to personally deliver an invitation to Mr. Bartholomew Simpson to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

In truth, Headmaster Dumbledore was omitting crucial information from Marge in order to spare her feelings. Bart was indeed a very gifted wizard for his age, but that was not the real reason why the headmaster chose to attend upon the Simpson abode. No, his concern was that Bart's conscious use of wandless magic at a young age for less than altruistic purposes reminded him eerily of Tom Riddle.

While Bart certainly did not appear to be the sociopath that Riddle turned out to be, he was nonetheless obviously prone to misbehaviour and therefore could constitute a danger to himself, teachers and fellow students if he misused his magic. He also did not rule out the possibility that young Bart would prank any teacher who came for him. He therefore decided that he was to collect Bart from Springfield and keep as close a watch on him as possible.

However, not being able to read minds like the headmaster, Marge had no idea that this was the case and so was beside herself in joy. Bart and Lisa apparently heard her cries of joy from their room and stood on top of the stairs.

"Mum, what's – hey, you're Headmaster Dumbledore!" Lisa exclaimed. Coming down the stairs, she gleefully shook the old mage's hand. "I've read so much about your deeds, sir – defeating the Dark Lord Grindelwald in battle, fighting against Britain's Lord Voldemort and engaging in tireless advocacy for the rights of No-Maj and children born to No-Maj. It's a real honour to meet you, sir."

_Heh, Voldemort. Sounds like a type of mouldy cheese_, Bart thought as he watched the exchange from afar.

"Ah, you must be young Lisa Simpson. From what I understand, you are quite the magical prodigy", Headmaster Dumbledore complimented, surreptitiously examining Lisa's mind as he did so.

_Hmmm…yes, she's much more polite, well-behaved and studious than young Bartholomew, but she definitely has a cunning, manipulative streak. I will definitely need to keep an eye on this young one as well_, Headmaster Dumbledore observed to himself.

"You're Headmaster Dumble-ass? I mean, Dumbledore", Bart corrected, as Marge threw him a scathing look. Making an effort to endear himself to the man, Bart politely stated, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir", shaking the headmaster's hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, young Bartholomew", Headmaster Dumbledore responded as he sized Bart up.

_Hmmm…yes, he's trying to manipulate me into his good books. I'll _definitely _need to keep an eye on him_, Headmaster Dumbledore noted inwardly as he probed Bart's mind, recalling Riddle and his manipulative behaviour.

"Young Bartholomew –"

"Bart."

"Young Bart, as I have explained to your mother, I am here to personally deliver an invitation to you to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Really? That's cool. I accept. Soooooo…is it normal for you to personally invite children of No-Maj parents to your school?" Bart enquired, feeling a little suspicious. "When I was invited to Ilvermorny, it was actually the Thunderbird head of house that supervised me when I went to get my things", Bart noted.

"No it isn't, Bart. I decided to invite you personally because you are a very gifted young wizard for your age", Headmaster Dumbledore replied, stroking Bart's ego.

"That's cool. The MACUSA dude said that before I was expelled from Ilvermorny as well", Bart observed. "So, why are you inviting me to Hogwarts if I was expelled from my last school?"

"Bart, firstly you were given permission by Headmaster Fontaine to study magic outside of the United States, in light of your extraordinary talent. Secondly, I personally believe that it would be a shame if your magical talent was forever lost to the wizarding world", Headmaster Dumbledore replied, not wishing to reveal his desire to keep an eye on Bart.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, hasn't the school year started at Hogwarts already? Won't Bart be behind in his classes?" Marge worriedly asked.

"I'm glad you asked Mrs. Simpson", Headmaster Dumbledore replied indulgently. "As a matter of fact, the start of the school term has been delayed by one week so we can enact improved security measures for the safety of the students. There have been too many security breaches at our school in the past. Bart and I therefore have a few days to apparate to Diagon Alley and collect his robes, textbooks and new wand. Do you already have an owl, Bart?"

As if to answer the headmaster's question, Balthazar swooped in through the door, flew around and landed on Bart's shoulder.

"Does that answer your question?" Bart deadpanned.

"Indeed it does, Bart. An eagle owl, I see. A most magnificent specimen but more common among American wizards than British ones. Maybe because of its association with MACUSA?" Headmaster Dumbledore observed.

"Yeah, maybe", Bart insouciantly noted. "Let's go collect our things."

"Ok, Bart."

However, just as Bart and Headmaster Dumbledore were about to depart, Homer came striding through the door. Upon seeing Headmaster Dumbledore, he pointed and giggled at his beard before tactlessly exclaiming, "Oh right! You must be Dumble-ass!"

"HOMERRRRRR!" Marge admonished.

"D'oh! I mean, Dumble-DORE", Homer corrected himself. "I'm Bart's father, Homer."

"Yes, I assumed as much. Well, I would love to stay and talk Mr. Simpson, but I'm afraid that Bart and I have to go and collect his things for the new school year", Headmaster Dumbledore replied indulgently.

"Alright; just make sure the boy doesn't give you too much trouble. He can be a real rascal", Homer replied.

"I assure you that he won't, Mr. Simpson. It has been a pleasure to meet you all. Lisa, I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts", Headmaster Dumbledore stated, which Lisa responded to by blushing.

Bart also bade his farewell before the pair apparated to Diagon Alley.

"He gets it from your side of the family you know, Marge. No magic freaks on my side", Homer opined after the two apparated, earning him a glare from both Lisa and Marge.

* * *

A mere moment later, Bart found himself alongside Headmaster Dumbledore in Diagon Alley. This shopping precinct was more impressive than the last wizarding precinct he had visited; there were not only a greater variety of pubs and shops in which one could buy textbooks, robes and cauldrons, but also to buy wands.

Speaking of these products, the headmaster quietly handed Bart a sheet of paper documenting the materials students need to purchase for the new school year as they walked along, which Balthazar read over Bart's shoulder. Bart shuddered involuntarily as he passed a broomstick shop, vividly recalling the circumstances which led to his expulsion from Ilvermorny.

"Sir, I don't have any money with me, even No-Maj money. How am I going to pay for things without money?" Bart suddenly asked.

"Bart, Hogwarts has a fund for poorer students like your good self. I will pay for it all upfront using this fund and charge your parents half the total a regular student would have to pay, which they can pay over the next few months. How's that?" Headmaster Dumbledore soothingly replied.

"Speaking of money, please wait out here for me. I wish to withdraw some of that money", Headmaster Dumbledore said as he strode into a snowy white building labelled Gringotts that was stocked with goblins, whom Bart privately fantasised about levitating because of their diminutive height.

Out of boredom, Bart non-verbally turned the hair of a passing wizard into a hideous vomit-like colour, which sent him hurtling down the street in a panic. Bart chuckled at this spectacle before Headmaster Dumbledore came out and led him down to Madam Malkin's to get his clothes fitted, much to Bart's agitation.

After Dumbledore gave her what appeared to be gold coins, he waited outside with Balthazar while Madam Malkin led Bart down to the back of the shop, where two students were getting their clothes fitted. One was a platinum blond boy with a pale, pointed face and cold grey eyes, whereas the other was a boy with raven hair, startling green eyes, wire-framed glasses, ill-fitting clothes, and what might have been a partially-obscured scar on his forehead. The two were in the throes of a conversation which the latter boy most certainly seemed _not_ to be enjoying, although the former was clearly oblivious to that fact.

_Gee man, the blond kid is so full of it. Doesn't he realise that this other kid doesn't want to talk to him? He's more clueless than Ralph. _

At that point, the blond started discussing houses and how he aimed to be in Slytherin. At this point, Bart decided to pump him for more information regarding the houses.

"Hey dude, tell me more about the houses."

At this, the blond and the raven-haired kid stopped to look at Bart. The blond looked at him as if he was a particularly unpleasant variant of toad while 'Milhouse', as Bart decided to nickname the other boy, adopted a more neutral countenance.

_He looks like a Muggle_, the blond thought as he saw Bart's orange shirt and blue shorts, but nonetheless addressed him.

"Who's asking? And what's with the American accent?" the blond sneered.

"I'm from America. The name's Bart Simpson; who the hell are you?"

Angered and surprised at this show of disrespect, the blond replied, "The names Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. You'd better remember that, Simpson, because my father is an important figure in wizarding Britain."

"That's a dumb name", Bart dismissively replied. He then pointed to 'Milhouse' and asked "Who's your friend, Drain-o?"

"It's _Dra-co_ and he's not my friend", Draco roughly replied. "So why are you attending Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny anyway?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore personally invited me to attend Hogwarts. He said that I was so talented that I deserved his personal attention", Bart bragged, hoping to get under Draco's skin.

His words appeared to have the desired effect, for Draco aggressively replied, "Is that right you filthy Mudblood? Clearly Dumbledore wouldn't have an idea what talent meant if it slapped him across his wrinkly old face if he thought that you had any. We pure-bloods will always be superior to your kind", having deduced from Bart's dress, manner, surname and cluelessness about Draco's surname, that he had No-Maj, or Muggle, parents.

"What the hell's a Mudblood?" Bart responded in absolute befuddlement.

Draco smirked at Bart's ignorance and was about to fire back a withering remark when Madam Malkin intervened.

"Young men, if you can't keep a civil tongue, then you can both leave my shop!" Madam Malkin informed both Bart and Draco.

After a brief pause, Draco stepped down. "Fine. I'd rather shop at Twilfitt and Tattings than associate with this scum, anyway", he remarked, nodding in Bart's direction before storming off.

"Gee, don't have a cow, man", Bart called out as Draco left.

_Heh, he was easier to piss off than Moe_, Bart thought to himself as he smirked at how easily he had irritated the blond boy. It was like Bart's existence was an affront to the boy and frankly that was how Bart liked it.

He then stepped on a stool next to 'Milhouse', who was looking at Bart with what seemed remarkably like gratitude. Bart saw this and remarked, "You look pretty happy that he's run off like a little girl."

"That's because I am", 'Milhouse' replied with a laugh. "He reminded me of my cousin and I really don't like my cousin."

Bart nodded and properly introduced himself, extending his hand. "Maybe you haven't heard, but my name's Bart Simpson. What's yours?"

Chuckling at Bart's sarcasm, 'Milhouse' took his hand and replied, "Harry Potter. Maybe you've heard of me?" in an attempt at understatement.

Bart looked completely nonplussed and responded with genuine surprise, "Nope. Haven't heard of any Harry Potters. Are you some sort of celebrity or something?"

Harry seemed both taken aback and relieved by this and admitted with a sigh, "Yes I am, because I apparently defeated some Dark Lord ages ago, and frankly I don't like it very much. I'm not comfortable taking credit for something I don't even remember."

_A celebrity, huh? So he's like Seraphinus. Seems like another person worth getting to know. Maybe he'll be happy to see me take some of the attention off him. _"Dark Lord? Was it Mouldy Cheese, I mean, Voldemort? My sister mentioned him to Headmaster Dumbledore when he visited our house."

Harry answered in the affirmative and chuckled at Bart's nickname for Voldemort, but nonetheless was genuinely surprised as he remarked, "So Dumbledore _did_ visit your house."

"Yeah, he did. I wasn't lying to blondie when I said that. In fact I told him that just to cheese him off", Bart remarked. "What, who came to get you? Do you have No-Maj parents too?"

"It was Hagrid, the school gamekeeper – and what's a No-Maj?"

"A No-Maj is someone without magic. Really a good thing in Ho-I mean my Dad's case. He'd probably wind up cursing himself with his wand", Bart explained.

Harry laughed at Bart's withering remark but responded, "Over here, we call No-Maj, Muggles. No, I do have wizarding parents, but they've long since died."

Bart was going to laugh at the word 'Muggle' but instead expressed as much sympathy for Harry's loss as he could muster. After doing so, he asked, "Hey, do you know anything about the Hogwarts houses?"

"No, but I don't want to be in Slytherin because I expect that Malfoy will be there", Harry admitted.

Bart smirked evilly and remarked, "If the dumb blond gets into Slytherin I want to be in Slytherin just to make his life a living hell." Observing Harry's look of shock, he continued "Trust me, Drain-o hasn't got a clue who he's messing with. I wasn't lying when Dumbledore said I was gifted."

Harry sniggered at this. By this time, both boys' robes had been fitted and both proceeded towards the door, where Hagrid, Headmaster Dumbledore and Balthazar awaited. After Headmaster Dumbledore introduced Bart to the bearded Hagrid and Hagrid introduced Harry to Dumbledore, the four wandered down the street.

They both purchased their textbooks from Flourish & Botts, along with their cauldrons. While Bart and Headmaster Dumbledore waited for Hagrid and Harry outside, Bart asked the Headmaster to discuss the Hogwarts Houses. The man obliged with a trademark twinkling of his eyes.

"Well, young Bart, there's Gryffindor, which values bravery, nerve, athleticism, courage, chivalry and daring. There's Hufflepuff, which values loyalty, fair play and tolerance. There's Ravenclaw, which values intelligence, wit, wisdom and creativity. Finally, there's Slytherin, which values resourcefulness, cunning, ambition, drive and a certain disregard for the rules."

_Hmmm…I don't think Hufflepuff suits me at all. Heh heh heh, Hufflepuff. More like Huffle-poof. I could be a Ravenclaw, but I think that Gryffindor or Slytherin suit me best. It'd be a blast if I got into Slytherin, just to see the look on Drain-o Mal-formed's smug prick face._

After Harry purchased his snowy owl, the four entered Ollivander's wand shop. Bart tuned out while Harry tried out various wands, instead fantasising about Itchy blasting Scratchy's head off with a wand. After a while, Harry picked out a wand, to which the wand-maker, Ollivander, waxed some lyrical about how Harry and Voldemort's wand both contained a feather from the same phoenix, and how Voldemort's wand caused Harry's scar.

Bart thought to himself, _As if having the same wand as some Dark Lord means anything. If Harry's a Dark Lord than Homer's the smartest person in my house_.

Suddenly looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else than with Ollivander, Harry paid his money, took his wand and led Hagrid out of the shop, quietly wishing Bart luck in the process.

Bart confidently sauntered up to the counter and casually requested as follows, "Ollivander my good man, give me a 10-inch wand with a Thunderbird tail feather as a core. That's what I used at Ilvermorny."

Ollivander was momentarily taken aback by Bart's cocksure manner, but quickly recovered and asked Bart about the circumstances in which the wand selected him, to which Bart admitted that it was the most suitable of the four that he had actually tried.

"Then I'm not satisfied that the wand you described is the most suitable one for you. You often need to try more than four wands to obtain the right one. Besides, I don't use Thunderbird tail feathers because in my opinion they are, like the Thunderbird itself, too dangerous and temperamental", Oliivander explained.

Bart was annoyed at hearing this, and with some justification as Ollivander made him try dozens of different wands. Some were functional but in both Headmaster Dumbledore and Ollivander's opinion didn't fully reflect Bart's disposition or his considerable magical talents. Others simply disintegrated in his left hand, while others resulted in Bart demolishing most of the shop, with the headmaster having to use a powerful Mending Charm to repair the damage.

Eventually, Ollivander narrowed Bart's choice down to three potential wand woods: the larch, maple and redwood, all of which had a phoenix feather core. In both Ollivander and Headmaster Dumbledore's mind this was somewhat fitting, for the phoenix and thunderbird were both related.

However, when Bart used all three wands to cast the same red sparks, none of them appeared to 'choose' Bart more than the other two, with each casting the same quantity of sparks.

To help determine the right choice of wand for Bart, Headmaster Dumbledore requested permission to read his thoughts by looking the boy in the eyes. As he had been cooped up in the shop for far too long for his liking, Bart gladly agreed.

However, the headmaster's probing into Bart's mind failed to establish a clear answer. Like the singer Celestina Warbeck, who possessed a larch wood wand, Bart was a talented musician and also displayed artistic and intellectual potential that, despite his considerable magical talent, had not been fully realised up until now due to enduring a series of muggle Primary School teachers that were generally anywhere from apathetic to outright demeaning.

The maple wood also suited Bart because of his lust for exploring, travelling and novelty, while he was clearly very magically ambitious for his age. As for the redwood wood, Bart was both incredibly fortunate and resourceful, encountering liberty or even life-threatening situations and yet falling on his feet, either because he made the right choice and snatched advantage from catastrophe, like when he tricked Sideshow Bob into signing the entire score of the HMS Pinafore so that the Springfield Police could arrest him, or because somebody else saved him at an opportune moment, like when Principal Skinner prevented Bart from being jailed for his supposed murder.

In the end, Headmaster Dumbledore and Ollivander decided to, for the first time in living memory, fuse all three wand woods together using the headmaster's Elder Wand before shortening the length of the wand to 10 inches; the size of Bart's Ilvermorny wand.

Finally, the headmaster paid Ollivander some more gold coins, allowing Bart to scarper out of the shop and put the whole gruelling ordeal behind him.

"Sir, what were those gold coins?" Bart asked.

"In Britain, we use galleons, sickles and knuts instead of dragots and sprinks. Galleons are the gold coins", Headmaster Dumbledore explained.

* * *

Momentarily Bart found himself back in Springfield with Headmaster Dumbledore and Balthazar. The headmaster then turned to hand Bart two documents.

"Here you go, young Bart. A ticket for Kings Cross, 9 ¾ quarters, September 8th, plus your International Travel Permit from MACUSA, which Mr. Tychus Tolliver kindly approved when I contacted him and explained that you were enrolling in my school."

"What, so I'm not catching an invisible, enlarged school-bus this time? Also, 9 ¾ quarters? Is that just some sort of prank I'm not getting? Besides, what makes it so difficult for you to just take me into Hogwarts?" Bart asked.

Dumbledore just chortled at Bart's sass and responded, "Bart, I cannot apparate directly onto the Hogwarts grounds. I wish for you to catch the train so you have the opportunity to meet some of your fellow students. As to exactly what Platform 9 ¾ quarters is, that will become clear in due time. I will be seeing you in a few days."

After saying this Dumbledore disappeared with a resounding crack, leaving Bart in a state of profound bewilderment, before he finally recovered his senses and opened the front door, dragging his newly-acquired belongings into the house with him while Balthazar flew up to his windowsill and rested there.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Two:**

I changed the part about _Modern Magical History _being part of Lisa's collection to being part of Bart's recently-acquired collection of textbooks, because for reasons explained earlier even the ever-studious Lisa would find such a book exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, to acquire on her own. _Modern Magical History _isn't actually part of Hogwarts' first-year list of required textbooks, but it could quite possibly be part of Ilvermorny's required list.

I did play around with the timeline slightly in this chapter in order to advance the plot. For instance, after opening the first book again I discovered that Harry spent another month with the Dursleys after leaving Diagon Alley. Bart most certainly doesn't spend that long with the Simpsons after coming back from Diagon Alley.

This chapter is longer than I initially envisaged because I felt the need to detail the circumstances beyond Bart's enrolment at Hogwarts, alongside his first interactions with Dumbledore, Draco, Harry and Hagrid, all of whom will play at least some part in the coming chapters. I also felt the need to explain the unique circumstances behind how Bart acquired his wand from Ollivander. Bart is a unique young wizard after all, so it figures that his wand will be unique.

I assumed that owls can apparate with their owners – it's not made clear in canon to my knowledge.


	3. Book 1: Heading to Hogwarts

**Chapter Three**

Usually Bart actually reading textbooks would be considered a miracle on par with Lazarus rising from the dead, but during next few days, Bart read them in a bid to discover spells that he thought he might actually use at Hogwarts. He eventually decided to rehearse the Fire-Making, Severing and Softening Charms both with and without his wand. The former two to use in pranks; the latter so that he could use textbooks as pillows whenever he felt like napping during class.

Being a prodigious talent, he naturally mastered said charms without much difficulty. He also amused himself by vanishing Homer's donuts while he was trying to eat them, enraging Homer into chasing Bart around the house like a crazed axe-murderer.

Soon enough though, Homer's misery would end when, on September 8th at 10:30am, Headmaster Dumbledore apparated onto their front lawn with a startling crack and subtly knocked on the door, after which Bart promptly answered and said, "Ah, greeeeeeeetings Headmaster Dumbledore".

"Greetings to you as well, Mr. Simpson", the wizened wizard indulgently responded, amused by Bart's exuberance. "I trust that you're ready to leave for King's Cross. Do you have your ticket and International Travel Permit?"

"Yes, sir", Bart responded as he placed his wand, slingshot and a few stink bombs into his pocket, at which time Dumbledore transfigured a nearby rock into a cart and levitated Bart's trunk and cage onto the cart, allowing Bart to wheel the cart out onto the front lawn.

Bart and the headmaster then saw Marge and Lisa waving at them from one of the upstairs rooms. After the two wizards waved back, they apparated.

"I just hope my special little guy will be safe", Marge mused.

"He'll be fine, Mum. If anything, I'm more concerned about whether or not the other students will be safe from _him_", noted Lisa.

* * *

Moments after they disappeared from 742 Evergreen Terrace, Bart and Headmaster Dumbledore found themselves at Kings Cross, in between Platforms 9 and 10, just behind a raven-heard boy whom Bart thought looked familiar. Just after apparating, Dumbledore surreptitiously cast a Mass Obliviate so as not to attract unwanted attention.

"Where the hell is Platform 9 ¾?" Bart enquired.

"Well, all you have to do is run as fast as you can through that pillar and you'll find yourself on the right platform", the headmaster breezily responded.

"_Run through that pillar?_ Headmaster Dumbledore, are you _insane_?" Bart querulously asked.

"No young Bart, though I do accept my advancing age may yet take a toll on my faculties", Dumbledore joked.

At hearing the names 'Bart' and 'Dumbledore', the raven-haired boy spun around.

"Bart! Professor Dumbledore! Did you just say that we have to run through that pillar?" Harry asked, not quite believing his ears.

While Bart was staring at Harry in shock, Headmaster Dumbledore responded, "Ah, good to see you again young Harry. Yes, you have to run through the pillar at full speed with your cart. Do not be afraid; I will be watching you."

Harry shrugged and, with his cart in front of him, quickly ran through the pillar.

The sight caused Bart's eyes to comically bug out, but before he could even consider following Harry, the headmaster put a hand on his shoulder.

"I apologise for the inconvenience Bart, but there are a couple of things I would like to tell you. Firstly, you must not use magic in Springfield because you will risk getting expelled. I regret to inform you that if you get expelled again, you will be forbidden to practice or study magic anywhere. For your safety, I will write a letter to your mother and sister advising them of this particular issue", Headmaster Dumbledore advised.

Upon hearing this, Bart groaned – he had so been looking forward to terrorising Dolph, Jimbo, Kearney and Principal Skinner with his newfound magic. However, it wasn't lost on the mischievous mage that the headmaster apparently deigned not to notify Homer about this particular issue.

_He obviously thinks that Homer is too lousy and stupid a parent to bother reading or understanding Dumbledore's letter – well, he's definitely right about that_, Bart thought sourly, recalling all too vividly his father's many displays of idiocy and incompetence.

"Secondly_"_, the majestic mage continued, "please try to show restraint in executing your practical jokes. I know full well that not all Hogwarts staff members will take kindly to them. Thirdly, here's some of my own money, so you can pay for food on the train," Headmaster Dumbledore finished as he gave Bart a purse full of wizarding coins.

The headmaster usually didn't hand students his own money, but he made an exception for Bart, not just because he didn't want the young wizard to starve on the train but also because he figured that it would be easier to monitor Bart if he placed himself into Bart's metaphorical good books – and what better way to do so than to give Bart his own money before he even set foot in Hogwarts? To Headmaster Dumbledore's pleasure, this act of generosity had the desired effect.

"Thank you, Headmaster", Bart replied with genuine sincerity, "and I'll try to behave at Hogwarts", he finished, with altogether less sincerity. With that, Bart ran towards the pillar, jumping on the edge of the cart as the boy and his cart hurtled the pillar.

Headmaster Dumbledore watched Bart pass through the pillar and, ever wise to Bart's insincerity, thought to himself, _Don't__ think I won't be keeping an eye on you, Bart_, before walking into a nearby toilet block and apparating with a resounding CRACK! This caused a man occupying a nearby cubicle to empty his bowels instead of his bladder like he desired.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bart had run through the pillar and quickly realised that he was on Platform 9 ¾.

_Cooooooooooool. A hidden platform. So Dumbledore _wasn't _kidding about there being a Platform 9 ¾_, Bart thought, as wizards in robes rushed past him. He then sighted the steam train that he was obviously meant to enter.

_A steam train? Pretty old-school next to Ilvermorny's magic speeding bus. You'd think that these guys would use something faster_.

He then pushed through the crowd with his cart, trying to find Harry as he approached the train. "Hey, get out of the way, Very Important Wizard coming through. Hey, move it beardo. You too, mega-gut", were just a few of Bart's choice remarks as he did so.

Having not found Harry, Bart stood in front of one of the open train doors and, with wand in hand, quickly levitated his trunk and cage into the train before banishing his cart into the distance.

_Hey, it's even easier to lift stuff with a wand than it is without one_, Bart observed as he took his cage and trunk and opened the nearest compartment door.

When he did so, he saw an older girl sitting there perusing a magazine which appeared to be called _Witch Weekly _while putting one of her ankle boots up onto the opposite chair.

"Hello there. You have such a trim, attractive figure. May I sit next to you?" Bart asked, pouring on the charm.

At this, the girl stood up to survey him, which rendered Bart's throat dry. In Bart's eyes, she was very attractive, standing at 172cm with long, wavy brunette hair that went down just behind her shoulders, aristocratic high cheekbones and a reasonably voluptuous figure, which her tight green blouse and dark denim jeans were accentuating. What struck Bart most, however, were her brown eyes, which burned into Bart's being with the intensity of a thousand suns as she stared at him, with the apparent intention of sizing him up.

_Why do I always fall for older women?_ Bart thought, thinking back to his crushes on Darcy and Laura Powers. However, the prefect's response shook him out of his trance.

"Shove off, firstie", she brusquely stated, apparently seeing through his attempts at charming her.

"And if I don't?" Bart playfully asked.

At this, the older girl gave him a nasty smile. "Well, then I might do _this…_" she responded. In a split second she whipped out her wand and before Bart could blink, his wand was in the older girl's hand and he was hoisted up in the air. He was held in place by her wand, as if she was controlling him like a puppet on a string.

"I wasn't made a prefect for nothing, you little brat", she hissed, pointing to the shiny silver 'P' badge on her chest. "This compartment is for prefects only. Now_ get lost_", she ordered as she made to release Bart and throw his wand back to him.

However, before she did Bart slyly responded, "Who says I need a wand to perform magic?"

_WHAT?_ the prefect thought. Before she could blink though, Bart had banished her into the wall, breaking her concentration and sending him to the floor. Using his ballet training, he landed delicately on his feet and wandlessly summoned his wand from her hand, much as he had summoned Homer's wallet so many times to buy things, like that lousy Itchy and Scratchy cel.

However, before he could do anything else, she had her wand trained upon him. Bart prepared to dodge but surprisingly no curses or hexes came. In fact, she was giving him a very shrewd, calculating look.

_Hmmmm…so he can perform wandless, non-verbal magic. I've never seen a firstie do that in my time at Hogwarts. Even most seventh years can't do both at the same time. Yes, he's _definitely _worth getting to know. He's clearly attracted to me, so I think that I can persuade him that his place at Hogwarts is in Slytherin with me. _

_Once he gets into Slytherin, I can mould him into somebody who can help me take care of my family's opponents both within and outside of Slytherin House. When that's done, my family and I will have more influence than ever before within wizarding Britain, enough so that we might be able to seriously influence its direction. I will need to ask him a few questions before I can plan any further though…_

At that, she gave him a stunning smile before holstering her wand and advancing towards him. As she did so she said, "I'm very sorry for my rudeness before. You just startled me, that's all. Here, let me help you up_"_, extending her hand towards him.

Bart wasn't entirely convinced by her apology and momentarily wondered what her angle was, but the lovesick lad was so swept up in her beauty that he quickly disregarded that concern, rather than taking it seriously as he otherwise might have. Instead, he took her delicate, slender, soft, perfectly manicured hand and pulled himself up.

"I believe that introductions are in order. I'm Gemma Farley – and whom might you be?"

"Bart Simpson, and the pleasure is all mine madam", Bart unctuously replied, recalling Headmaster Dumbledore's earlier greeting.

Gemma smiled at that response, inviting Bart to sit next to her after she helped him put his trunk and cage up, which Bart duly did.

"Why did you call me a firstie? And where are the other prefects?" Bart asked.

"A firstie is a first-year. I knew you were a first-year because you had no idea what the badge on my shirt was, plus younger students who spent some time here would know better than to bother a prefect. As for the other prefects, I expect that they'll be joining us soon enough. Now please, let me ask you some questions. I really want to get to know you better", Gemma stated, to which Bart nodded.

"You know, you have a really cute American accent", Gemma said in a bid to butter Bart up. Bart's blush indicated that she had succeeded. Continuing on, she asked, "Why are you studying at Hogwarts and not Ilvermorny like every other American firstie?"

"Ummm…I got expelled from Ilvermorny", Bart said with some embarrassment.

Gemma raised her eyebrows at this. "You were expelled in your first week? Why?"

"Uhhhh…well, I crashed one of my house's brooms into the headmasters butt."

At hearing this, Gemma burst out laughing. She eventually composed herself and asked, "Shouldn't you be forbidden from practising or studying magic?"

"Well, Headmaster Fontaine let me study overseas because I'm really talented."

Having had her suspicious about Bart's magical talent vindicated, she pressed on. "Do you have magical parents?"

"No, I don't. Actually, it's really a good thing that Ho-I mean, my Dad doesn't because he would probably have turned my home town into a giant crater by now."

Gemma chuckled outwardly at this remark but inwardly thought, _So he _is _a Muggleborn. That does cause a few complications – I don't remember a Muggleborn being sorted into Slytherin in all my years here. It also makes any hypothetical marriage to him trickier, because my family will not accept me marrying a Muggleborn by reason of reputational loss. _

_What I will have to do is to get him to go to the goblins and procure some fake I.D. so he can pass himself off as a pure-blood. He's an American, so he can pass himself off as a wizard from a historical American pure-blood family that may or may not have gone extinct, like the Stewards. The British pure-blood families are insular enough that they wouldn't be any the wiser. Now to try and convince him that Slytherin is the right house for him._

"You know Bart_,_" Gemma said, addressing Bart by his first name instead of his surname to try and ingratiate herself with him, "I would really like you to be in Slytherin with me. Fontaine was right; you are a really talented wizard and if you were with me, I could help you to be that great wizard_._"

"Really?"

"Yes, Bart. Slytherin values students who have the potential for greatness more than the other houses do and to be honest, you could be the greatest wizard that Hogwarts has seen for many decades_"_, Gemma continued.

"Cooooooooooooooooool_"_, Bart said, thinking about all of the attention and glory that he could receive if he became as great as Gemma said. "But how could you help me become great?"

"Bart, I am the second-best student in my year and by my estimation one of this school's best students. The vast majority of students here can only dream of doing what I can do", Gemma boasted.

"Which is?"

At this point, Gemma discussed her extensive knowledge of charms, curses, hexes and jinxes, some of which were family secrets, how she was a dab hand at potions and her mastery of transfiguration, to the point where she had just started learning human transfiguration with her father, who was quite skilled in the practice. She joked that she was going to transform her more randy classmates into turnips this year, to which Bart laughed.

Bart then regaled her with tales about how he had used non-verbal, wandless and transfiguration magic to prank people from an early age. Much as Seraphinus had previously, Gemma laughed before asking him more probing questions.

"When did you discover that you could use non-verbal, wandless magic?"

"Well_", _Bart responded in his eagerness to impress, _"_I was about 6 years old. I went into my bedroom and discovered that my Mum had moved my toys to the other side of the room. As I went over to get them, I imagined myself pulling the toys into my hand, because I thought that would be awesome. A couple of toys then lifted themselves and came towards me before falling down again. After a little trial and error, I figured out that I really needed to concentrate on the toys and picture them coming into my hand.

I was about 7 or 8 when I discovered that I could make things disappear or change colour. One day, I just pictured turning my principal's hair pink because I thought it would be funny and it just kind of happened. Same thing when I saw my kindergarten teacher; I pictured making her clothes disappear just to see what would happen and…well…they did. I then practised making my dad's underwear disappear and change colour. You should have seen his face when he opened his drawers after I did that.

A bit later on, I figured out that I could also unlock doors by walking in front of a door and picturing it unlocking and opening._"_

Bart then bragged, _"_I can also make myself invisible and silent. That was a little trickier. I tried picturing my arm becoming invisible, but all that did was make my arm disappear while the rest of my body was still visible. I freaked a few people out but that wasn't what I wanted.

I later looked at a mirror at home and pictured my entire body disappearing, which did the trick. It wore off pretty quickly, but I kept on practising and now I can change back when I want by picturing myself looking into a mirror and seeing me look back."

To make myself silent, I pictured myself walking without making a sound. Again, I soon started making noise, so I kept using that charm so my body could get used to it. I only use it when I have to but, because people kept bumping into me when I walked around the corner because they couldn't hear me coming.

At around age 10, I pictured turning one of my sister's books into a rat. It only turned into half a rat, so obviously I had to practice more and focus better. What I did was stare at one of my teacher's books and keep a picture of it turning into a rat in my head for more than 30 seconds. After that time, it did. It really scared the class", Bart laughed.

"So I practised transforming things into larger animals or objects, like dogs. That was more difficult; to turn something into a dog I had to focus a picture in my mind for over a minute. But it was worth it just to see the look on Groundskeeper Willie's face.

Anyway, I just practised more and now I can do it pretty much instantly. I really caused a stray dog problem in my home town for a while_"_, Bart explained as Gemma laughed.

"Were you bullied because of your gifts?"

"All the time. I mean, I was glad that the reverend banned me from church –"

"Reverend?_"_

"He's a guy who leads a group of Christians."

Gemma darkened at the reference to Christians but nonetheless invited Bart to continue.

"Yeah, as I was saying, the reverend banned me from church, my neighbour used to change me around with exorcism tongs because he thought that I had a demon inside of me -_"_

"WHAT?_" _Gemma exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.

"Yeah I know, right? Every day, the bullies would attack me to try and beat the 'freakiness' out of me and the town even tried to burn me alive but my Mum stopped them._"_

Gemma looked absolutely horrified and responded, "It might not mean much, but I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, Bart. No one with your gifts should have to cope with that_"_, to which Bart simply shrugged.

She then thought to herself, _The Muggles around him are absolute monsters - he's _definitely_ not safe in his home town. I'll invite him to stay at Farley Manor over Yule so he can become closer to me. I assume that we both have International Travel Permits, so if he has a fireplace I'll give him a container of Floo Powder and he can use that before he comes to visit me. If not, I'll have my father apparate me to his house so I can collect him._

"How did they even know that you were behind all of these things?" Gemma asked.

"Well, my principal was sure that I vanished the teacher's clothes. He couldn't prove it, but rumours started spreading about me afterwards. That I made my arm invisible that time didn't help, nor did the way objects kept lifting and transforming in front of me.

Then my little sister Lisa started doing similar things – lifting objects and changing the colour of her clothes. I'm better at disappearing and staying silent because she's too much of a goody-two-shoes to sneak around places very much, but she can still unlock doors and she's even better at, um, transfiguring and stuff than me. She once turned my elephant, Stampy, into a pot plant to hide him from some ivory dealer before convincing Dad to smuggle him to a game reserve, after which she turned him back into an elephant. Then she cursed some older girls who tried to bully her. Basically, that stuff just added fuel to the fire and that's when the town and the reverend got upset."

Gemma looked at him with wide eyes and thought, _His little sister can transfigure an _elephant_? She's obviously worth getting to know as well_.

She then regained her composure and asked him, "Did your parents or relatives know about this?"

"I think they wondered but they weren't sure. Mum seemed cool with it, but Dad started calling me 'Freaky Barty' because of all the weird stuff that happened when I was around. Tell me about your family."

She rolled her eyes at Homer's nickname for Bart but discussed her family. Her mother, Bella, ran an apothecary while her father, Jake, was a seasoned curse-breaker for the Ministry of Magic, hence explaining Gemma's knowledge of charms, curses, hexes and jinxes.

"Coooooooool_"_, Bart responded, before discussing his family in cursory detail. He didn't want to talk much about Homer's occasional abusive behaviour – he had already revealed more about his past than he had expected to and it was more of a sore point for him than he let on.

Luckily, Gemma let it slide and asked him, "So what did you do about the bullies?"

"Well, I wanted them to break out in boils before they could touch me. I basically practised on my sister and mastered a few hexes that way. Before long, the bullies were breaking out in boils, having their skin turn into bloody scabs and suffering from nasty genital rashes. For the last one I had to picture them naked", Bart said as he shuddered, "but it was worth it. My sister got me back though, by making my butt break out in boils. I couldn't sit down properly for a little while after that", to which Gemma snorted in laughter.

* * *

Unfortunately for them, their privacy was then disturbed as another prefect, this time with red hair, opened the door.

"Farley, non-prefects aren't allowed in this compartment; it's against Hogwarts regulations! What is this boy doing with you?" the prefect asked.

"I invited him, Weasley", Gemma deadpanned.

"That doesn't matter, Farley! I'm going to have to report this!" Weasley threatened.

"Weasley, the school year hasn't even started, so I can't get into trouble for this, you prat. Now go mope outside", Gemma ordered as she shut the door.

"What kind of stupid name is Weasley?"

"Well, it suits him because he's a weasel", Gemma snarked, to which Bart chuckled.

_Man, I look forward to pranking him_, Bart thought to himself as two more prefects came in. They gave Bart a suspicious look, but Gemma's shake of the head dissuaded them from saying anything. The three prefects then exchanged pleasantries and discussed their summers. He then tuned out, again fantasising about Itchy blasting Scratchy in a million ways using his wand and hence remaining oblivious to the occasional cycling of prefects in and out of the compartment.

The trip wasn't entirely uneventful, though. A smiling, dimpled woman came by with a cart and offered them any number of sweets. As Bart bought some and examined them, he came across one called Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. He then chuckled as he thought about Homer vomiting after eating one that tasted like a combination of pie crust, cloves and Tom Collins mix.

Eventually, Gemma informed him that they were nearing Hogwarts and that he should change into his robes outside. Bart complied, disillusioning himself in the process.

A voice then called out, "We'll be at Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken separately."

_Well that's something, _Bart thought as the train slowly stopped. After it did, Gemma, Bart and the other two prefects stepped out.

Immediately afterwards, Bart heard a voice that he recognised as Hagrid's calling out for the first-years to follow him. Bart looked at Gemma, who responded with a nod and a dazzling smile before saying, "Good luck Bart. It would be a massive shame for you to not be with me in Slytherin", she said as she trooped off with the other prefects.

* * *

A short time later, Bart followed Hagrid's giant figure. He eventually discovered that, because he sat in the prefect compartment rather than with the other first-years, he was at the very back of the large mob of said first-years, who walked down an apparently narrow, steep path. Ahead of him, Hagrid pointed out that the castle could be seen just around this bend. The other first-years were apparently fascinated by this, but Bart himself was singularly unimpressed.

_Pfft, people are impressed by anything these days,_ he thought. _Just last week I saw another castle. I'm sure they all pretty much look the same_.

Eventually, they reached a large black lake with several small boats.

_What, couldn't these _brilliant_ wizards come up with a faster way to move people from Point A to B?_ Bart asked himself as he recalled how Ilvermorny's magic bus transported people directly onto the school grounds. Nonetheless, he complied with Hagrid's order to do so and duly stepped in. As he did so, Bart heard a voice utter, "Bart? Is that you?"

He turned to his left to find Harry gawking at him, with his other two accomplices looking at Bart in confusion.

"Oh hey Milh-I mean, _Harry_", Bart greeted. "Who are these other dudes?"

"Wait a minute Harry, do you know this boy?" a bushy-haired, buck-toothed witch sitting opposite him asked.

"Yeah, I do. Hermione Granger, meet Bart Simpson. Ron Weasley, meet the guy who fought with Malfoy in Madam Malkin's," Harry said as he introduced Bart to his new friends. Bart inwardly snickered at the name 'Weasley' but kept up a neutral front.

"You're the one who fought with Malfoy?_ Wicked!_" Ron exclaimed as he eagerly shook Bart's hand. Observing him properly, Bart saw that he was a tall, gangly, freckled boy with a long nose.

"Yeah. He called me a Mudblood before running out of the shop like a bitch", Bart replied, earning a dark look from Ron. "Hey, what's a Mudblood anyway?"

Ron sighed and explained, "A Mudblood is an insult directed towards someone with two Muggle parents. It's like saying that their blood's dirty_._"

Bart wisecracked, _"_Yeah, my dad's about as Muggle as you can get_"_, to which Harry and Ron chuckled.

"So what house do you think you'll be in?" Ron asked.

"Slytherin", Bart briskly responded. To his surprise, Ron looked as if Bart had just admitted to murdering his entire family. "Was iiiiiiit…something I said?" Bart asked, absolutely nonplussed at Ron's affronted expression.

"Yeah, it was! You can't be in Slytherin! They're a bunch of slimy snakes! There wasn't a witch or wizard that went bad who wasn't from Slytherin! Malfoy is going to be a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake!" Ron exclaimed.

"That's why I want to be in Slytherin – to make Malfoy's life a living hell", Bart responded, causing Harry to chuckle and leaving Ron utterly dazed and confused.

"You want to get sorted into a house just to bully someone? That's not very nice!" Hermione exclaimed.

Before Bart could respond, a voice to his right piped up, "Hey look, it's Simpson. So you've finally decided to show yourself, have you, you stinking Mudblood? Here I was thinking that you chickened out of coming to Hogwarts, but when I'm through with you, you'll wish that you had!"

Much to Bart's displeasure, Malfoy was on the next boat with two gorilla-like thugs. The trio eerily reminded Bart of Jimbo, Dolph and Kearney. If his interactions with the latter trio were anything to go by, this group would look to cause him no end of problems. _I'll need to keep an eye on them_, Bart thought.

"Yeah, you keep on saying that, Drain-o Mal-formed! I'm more than you or your boyfriends can handle", Bart responded, eliciting laughs from Harry and Ron. Even Hermione smiled.

Draco scowled, but before he could respond Bart had already clambered out of the boat and disillusioned himself so that the blond boy could not see him.

_Where did he go? Surely the little Mudblood doesn't know how to disillusion himself? I didn't even see him use a wand!_ Draco thought in vexation.

Bart silenced himself before chuckling, with his chuckles only increasing when he realised that a fellow student actually owned a _toad_. He then shuffled up the stairs, lifting the disillusionment charm as he did so. He quickly found himself in front of a large, oak door, upon which Hagrid knocked three times before the first-years filed in.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Three:**

Chapter Three was originally meant to cover Bart's sorting, but the chapter was so long that I decided to make the sorting part of Chapter Four.

The Itchy and Scratchy animation cel is a reference to 'Lady Bouvier's Lover'.

As I promised to do this earlier, I've added a section explaining Bart's ability to cast charms/hexes non-verbally/wandlessly. Hope the explanation is reasonable enough.

I did not want to have Gemma Farley be a Mary Sue type character without any real flaws. It should be apparent to readers that while she is charming, ambitious, driven, resourceful, high-achieving and a long-term planner, she is also incredibly manipulative, self-interested and quite amoral, to the point where she has no compunctions about taking advantage of a child's attraction to her in order to make him do her bidding. In other words, a quintessential Slytherin.

To this end, I also did not want to make Gemma _too _overpowered for a fifth-year. Her ability to perform non-verbal magic and her learning (but not _mastering_) human transfiguration is considered to be above O.W.L. level, but learning spells above that level is certainly not impossible for younger students, as Harry and Hermione have repeatedly demonstrated.

RE Gemma's attractiveness, I am describing her from Bart's POV. Many guys would no doubt view her as attractive, but her beauty IMO isn't otherworldly. She doesn't have particularly exotic hair or eyes, nor is her name unusual.

When you're lovesick, as Bart was with Gemma, it can be hard to view them in a realistic manner. Bart being a child would just worsen this issue since children typically lack the life experience and perspective of adults.

I don't think that Gemma's ambitions are _too _unrealistic, certainly not by the standards of a universe wherein a megalomaniac takes over the Ministry of Magic and Lucius Malfoy effectively has the Minister of Magic in his pocket.


	4. Book 1: The Brat and the Hat

**Chapter Four**

They were greeted by the sight of a tall, black-haired witch named Professor McGonagall, who to Bart seemed even more uptight than Principal Skinner. _She'll be fun to prank_, Bart thought.

The first-years followed her through the entrance hall and across the flagged stone floor, eventually finding themselves in a small, empty, crowded chamber.

Bart initially felt uncomfortable but eventually figured that it was the perfect opportunity to let rip a silent fart. The waving of hands around him make him chuckle inwardly. _Silent but deadly_, he thought.

Professor McGonagall then went and rambled about the start-of-term banquet, the Sorting Ceremony and the four houses. Bart largely zoned out during this speech because Headmaster Dumbledore had already discussed the various houses with him. After his discussion with Gemma on the train, he already knew that he wanted to be a Slytherin.

However, he heard Harry behind him, asking someone how they were sorted into houses.

"Oh, I heard that they throw you into a gauntlet and you're kicked and punched a lot by a bunch of other students as you go through. At the end of the gauntlet, the injuries that you have determines what house you're sorted into", Bart lied casually, turning to Harry as he did so.

Harry's eyes bugged out like saucers upon hearing this, but he was somewhat reassured by Bart's wink. Some of the other students murmured worriedly, however, much to Bart's amusement.

However, many students were startled out of their thoughts by the arrival of several ghosts. The sight of these ghosts apparently scared many people, but not Bart.

_Ghosts? Coooooooooooool_, he thought, not seeing any at Ilvermorny. One of the ghosts, a supposed friar, told them that he hoped to see them in Hufflepuff, to which Bart had to keep himself from laughing hysterically.

* * *

At that point Professor McGonagall returned and led the students out of the chamber in a line into the Great Hall. Many of the students appeared fascinated by the sights and sounds of the Great Hall but Bart was indifferent, having seen a similar spectacle at Ilvermorny. He heard Hermione say something about the sky being bewitched to resemble the ceiling outside, to which he thought, _Nobody cares, you Lisa-wannabe._

Bart then sighted a four-legged stool which had a battered old wizard's hat on top of it. To his surprise, the hat then started singing. After the end of its 'song', the hall burst into applause but Bart was mortified beyond belief. _Ok, that was _very _disturbing_, he thought, being reminded of that time when he heard about Ned Flanders singing in falsetto in front of the entire church congregation.

Professor McGonagall then held out a roll of parchment and called out, _"_Abbott, Hannah!", who was sorted into Hufflepuff. Bart then sniggered when he heard the name "Bones, Susan!_"_ and thought, _Haha, boners._

To Bart's relief, Hermione was sorted into Gryffindor. _Oh well, at least I don't have to put up with her crapping on about random things that no-one cares about_, he thought. However, he was far more amused when Draco was sorted into Slytherin with his two 'boyfriends'. _See you at ground zero, you blond bitch_, he thought.

The name "Potter, Harry!" shook him out of his reverie and he watched Harry dawdle up to the stool with fascination. After a few minutes, the hat cried out "Gryffindor!_"_, to which Bart slapped himself in annoyance. He liked Harry's unassuming nature and he would like to have had him around as a 'partner in crime'. However, deep down he wasn't surprised – not after Harry had previously admitted to him that he didn't want to be sorted into the same house as Draco.

Before too long, the name "Simpson, Bartholomew!" was called out. He strode up to the stool, savouring the pointed glares of all of the Hogwarts teaching staff, bar the smiling Headmaster and a man wearing a turban, as he did so. With a scowl, Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat onto Bart's head.

"Ahhh Mr. Simpson. You're the first first-year American to be sorted by me for as long as I can remember. You are quite the tricky customer to sort, I must say. Sure, you're no Hufflepuff, but your poor academic record belies your intelligence, wit and creativity. You would be a better Ravenclaw than it would appear at first glance. However, I do not think that is your ideal house. In truth, you would be almost perfect for Gryffindor. You are brave, daring, courageous and athletic. However, you are not very chivalrous. That leaves Slytherin. Yes – you're the quintessential Slytherin, I think. You execute your pranks with cunning, resourcefulness and an utter disregard for the rules. I can also feel your ambition to be great – you wanted to be the Chief Justice of the Muggle Supreme Court of the United States before learning you were a wizard, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir", Bart said, astonished that the hat even knew that.

"I thought as much. Additionally, like a certain wizard who came here many moons ago you well and truly have the potential to be great and I think that Slytherin will definitely help you on your way to greatness, so it had better be SLYTHERIN!" the hat concluded with a yell.

* * *

However, unlike the claps and cheers which greeted every other student's sorting into their respective house, Bart's sorting was met with utter silence, such that you could hear a pin drop.

"We can't have Simpson in Slytherin; he's a filthy Mudblood!" Draco eventually yelled, his boiling anger and prejudice towards the spiky-haired Muggleborn giving forth an ugly outburst. Indeed, such outbursts all too often overcame whatever Slytherin subtlety the blond might have had.

_First he wrecks my chance to befriend Harry Potter; now he's in the same house as me! That Sorting Hat must have been Confounded. How in Merlin's name could this have happened otherwise? I'll have to write to my parents about this. He _cannot _be in my house. While he's still here, I'll make his life so miserable that he'll wish he had never been born!_

Draco's slur was received by a stony stare from Gemma, murmurs of agreement and embarrassed looks from other Slytherin members, and scandalised looks and whispering from students from the other three houses. Bart looked over to the Gryffindor table, where he saw Harry fix Draco with a murderous glare and Hermione gaze down at her shoes.

Bart then surveyed the teaching staff, who themselves looked quite shocked at Draco's outburst. They might not have looked forward to teaching Bart, but calling someone a Mudblood in public was definitely _not_ socially acceptable. After a few minutes, Headmaster Dumbledore nodded and smiled at Bart, subtly gesturing with his hand towards the Slytherin table. The boy then turned towards Slytherin and caught Gemma's imperceptible nod and smile.

With that, Bart walked to the Slytherin table. However, he discovered that none of the first-years wanted him to sit with them. Draco in particular fixed him with a scowl, to which Bart just smirked.

_The other first-years don't want me to sit next to them_ _ – no problemo; I'll just get one of the older students to make room for me. _

However, none of the older students were any more willing to make room for him than the first-year students were.

* * *

Gemma watched this whole scene with anger and disgust. _What happened to house unity in the face of other houses? What happened to looking after your own, Muggleborn or not? When did Slytherin become a hive for blood-obsessed fanatics? When did our house decline to the point that mediocrities like Malfoy are actually taken seriously?_ she thought.

Gemma's family, while pure-blooded, neither supported pure-blood fanaticism nor fought on Lord Voldemort's side during the last wizarding war like many of her housemates' families did. Instead, they pursued a policy of what Muggle foreign policy experts might term Finlandisation – bowing to Voldemort's side while not mooning Headmaster Dumbledore's. They supplied Voldemort's side with free potion ingredients from her mother's apothecary while selling Headmaster Dumbledore's side information about the movements of Voldemort's Death Eaters. They bought this information from the less loyal Death Eaters, for whom making a buck was more important than Voldemort's cause.

Unfortunately, they were slowly losing money from the practice before the war came to an abrupt end. She, like many Slytherins, valued her family and so was determined not to allow her family to fall into that situation again. In her mind, that could only be achieved not only by decimating the Death Eater ranks, but also by subjugating her family's pro-Dumbledore opponents, thus minimising the ageing wizard's influence on their family and thus making it easier for them to influence Britain's wizarding world.

To this end, she considered Bart to be the _perfect _weapon to use against her opponents – a young, malleable, once-in-a-generation talent who happened to be attracted to her. What did his blood status matter when he displayed such ability?

Speaking of Bart, he saw him advance towards her, apparently having not found a seat. She quickly ordered the boy next to her to move down and make room for Bart, after which she invitingly smiled at Bart and patted the space next to her. Bart obliged her, smiling gratefully.

"Thanks Gemma."

"No problem Bart. What Malfoy did was violate one of Slytherin's unspoken rules – always display unity in front of other houses. I couldn't punish him there and then because I would be violating that rule too, but once we're in the dungeons, I'll give him detention for the next week for that little stunt. No student deserves to be publicly humiliated like that; not even a Gryffindor", Gemma joked. "So, what did you do to rub him up the wrong way? He behaved like you pissed in his chips", she observed.

"Well, I fought with him at Madam Malkin's in front of a boy who turned out to be Harry Potter", Bart explained.

At that, Gemma laughed. "He's even more arrogant and stupid than I thought! Not only antagonising a massive talent like yourself, but the Boy-Who-Lived at the same time? He really knows how to pick his battles", Gemma sarcastically observed, deliberately stroking Bart's ego in the process. As she said this, she mused, _So, Lucius Malfoy's weak link is apparently his son. He should be easier to take down than I thought._

"Yeah, nothing says cunning and resourceful quite like pissing off important, powerful people", came Bart's rejoinder.

"I agree. Slytherin is meant to stand for cunning, resourcefulness, drive, ambition and not being afraid to break the rules, but I realise now that over the years it's just become a hive of scum and bigotry. Most of my fellow students are either thugs, like Malfoy's friends Crabbe and Goyle, or are comfortable coasting on their family name, rather than showing genuine ambition and trying to become great and change history, like you or me", Gemma bitterly replied.

Bart nodded at this, after which point the sorting ended and Headmaster Dumbledore uttered the words "Blubber!_" _and "Nitwit!"

"He's not referring to Drain-o acting like a blubbering nitwit, is he?" Bart snarked, to which Gemma laughed. After Bart said that, a sumptuous feast magically came into being. For him this feast equalled the one provided by Ilvermorny and he tucked in eagerly.

Eventually the feast ended and Headmaster Dumbledore spoke, introducing the caretaker Filch. Filch, whom Bart privately nicknamed 'Filth', seemed about as friendly as Groundskeeper Willie and Bart certainly looked forward to pranking him. The mage then announced the upcoming Quidditch trials, but Bart remembered how his last sojourn with a broom ended and found himself most uninterested. Finally, he informed the school that both the forest and the third-floor corridor on the right hand side were out of bounds to anyone who didn't wish to endure a painful death. At this, Bart smirked and thought, _w__hatever's in that corridor _must _be worth checking out_. He then locked eyes with a laughing Harry over at the Gryffindor table and could immediately tell that he was thinking the same thing.

To Bart's utter horror, Headmaster Dumbledore displayed his utter lack of signing chops as he butchered the already unmelodic school song, to which pretty much everyone except Bart joined in. _Ay carumba! I didn't think it was possible, but that both sucked_ and _blew_, Bart thought. Mercifully for him though, that dreadful display ended and the headmaster told everybody to go to bed.

"Bart, follow me. I'm leading you and the rest of the firsties to Slytherin's common room", Gemma instructed before she teamed up with a tall, dark-haired male prefect and went to collect the rest of the first-years.

"Yes'm", came Bart's lengthy response before following her.

* * *

Eventually, the first-years all came together and proceeded to the common room, with Bart making sure to walk by Gemma's side in case Draco or another first-year tried to curse him from behind. Sure enough, he felt the heat of Draco's glare on his back but no attacks came as they walked through some labyrinthine passages and stopped at a bare, damp stone wall.

"Veritaserum", Gemma uttered as a stone door concealed within the wall slipped open. Looking around, Bart did see some similarities with Thunderbird's common room, as it also had a fireplace alongside several sofas and tables being featured in the middle of the room. However, this common room was more of an elaborate dungeon, replete with stone walls and a greenish hue caused by overhanging lamps, along with darker furniture. Already having seen a common room, Bart wasn't quite as impressed by seeing another.

After giving the first-years a brief congratulatory speech for being sorted into Slytherin, Gemma pointed out that the boys and girls dormitories could be found beyond the doors on each side of the room. The male prefect then left and she proceeded to follow, before Draco blurted out, "The mudblood Simpson isn't sleeping with us! He doesn't even belong in Slytherin!_"_ to which his 'boyfriends' and another black-haired girl with hair in a bob murmured agreement while the other children said nothing, obviously not wishing to antagonise Draco.

Gemma turned around and gave Draco a dangerous smile. He had just given her the perfect opportunity to double his detention. _"_Come with me, Malfoy. The rest of you, stay where you are", she ordered, to which Draco reluctantly complied as they both left the dungeon. Although she didn't say as such, Bart knew there would be hell to pay if the other first-years attacked him.

Nonetheless, feeling rather paranoid, Bart turned and stared the other first-years down, like a gunslinger in the Wild West. He knew, despite his prodigious talent, that he couldn't take them all out if they attacked him. No, he would have to 'disappear' by combining the disillusionment and silencing charms like he had so many times before.

As Bart was preparing to do this, a pretty brunette with shoulder-length wavy hair and hazel eyes watched him with interest.

_Hmm...Simpson obviously doesn't trust us. It looks like he'll do something at any moment. Run off or maybe even attack us? Who knows? __I'd better start talking to him, just so nothing bad happens. I'm a half-blood, so nobody here really cares if I talk to a Muggleborn, since the purebloods think I'm lower than them, anyway._

"Simpson! We don't have to be enemies! It's just that Draco's father is a very dangerous man who can harm our families and so we're all afraid of annoying his son!" the brunette explained.

_Wow, that came out of nowhere_, Bart thought, but his response was nonetheless terse.

"Well, that hasn't stopped me from fighting him."

"Simpson, you're the first Muggleborn to be sorted into his house for a very long time and you don't even sound like you're from Britain", the girl began.

"That's because I'm not."

Ignoring him, the girl continued, _"_Listen, the Malfoys are very wealthy and so hold a great deal of power within the British Ministry of Magic and within Hogwarts. Draco's father is very close to the Minister of Magic and so influences him greatly. He's also on Hogwarts' board of governors. Crossing Draco is not a good idea for that reason, because he'll go running to his father, who can use his influence to make our lives and those of our families very difficult."

Finally, Bart understood why these kids were reluctant to openly associate with him. Draco's family couldn't easily harm Bart or his family due to their great distance from magical Britain, but they could certainly harm these children and their families.

"My name is Tracey Davis by the way. It's good to finally talk to you, and congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin", she said, holding out a slender, delicate, manicured hand, which Bart took.

One by one, the other kids came up and shook his hand, except for Draco's 'boyfriends', 'bob-girl', as Bart nicknamed her, and a black boy who disdainfully turned his back on the rest of his housemates. _His personality obviously matches his skin colour,_ Bart thought.

First, there was a pretty girl with long blond hair, high cheekbones and sapphire blue eyes, who introduced herself as Daphne Greengrass. There was then a weedy, vaguely rat-faced boy with dark hair and eyes named Theodore Nott, followed by a heavyset girl with brown eyes named Millicent Bulstrode, and finally a brown-eyed girl with long brown hair who introduced herself as Rachel Runcorn.

Eventually, Gemma returned without Draco and instructed all the first-year students, except Bart, to go to their dormitories. Soon enough, the two were alone.

"What happened to Dranny?" Bart asked.

Gemma laughed before explaining, "Well, I told naughty little Draco that he had two weeks detention and that he had to start serving the detention tonight. Let's just say that Draco will be having a rather late night." At this, she gave Bart an intimidating grin.

Bart chuckled before Gemma walked him down the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

"By the way Bart, there are two spells I want you to learn: _Protego Duo_ and _Protego Totalum_. The first one shields you from physical and magical attacks, of which I think you'll receive many in Slytherin. The second one protects an area for a long period of time. You'll need to cast that one over your bed every night. Don't think that Draco won't try and attack you in your sleep. I'll show you how it's done the first time – just get into bed and then watch me", she instructed as they entered Bart's dormitory, with every other student apparently having already fallen sleep, seeing as how their velvet green curtains were drawn closed_. _After Bart entered the large, four-poster bed on the far left, which had a trunk labelled 'SIMPSON' at its foot, Gemma covered the bed in a translucent shield by saying the relevant incantation while flicking her wand.

"Coooooooooool", Bart replied, to which Gemma smiled at him, bade him goodnight and strode out of the dorm. Even the energetic Bart suddenly found himself rather worn down by the day's events and so, without even really taking in his surroundings or thinking about Balthazar, he dropped off into the land of slumber.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Four:**

As Gemma has lampshaded, the Slytherins are meant to be cunning, resourceful, ambitious rule-breakers, but none of the canon Slytherin students consistently demonstrate those qualities; not even Draco. Draco and Zabini are mostly just elitist snobs whereas Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint are just thugs who appear to be there just so JK Rowling can make Slytherin look worse.

I think my interpretation of Finlandisation is correct; please tell me if it isn't.

As per canon, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle remain unpleasant. Fanon stylings usually portray Daphne as a blue-eyed blond and Tracey as a brunette, so I've run with that. Theo is described as weedy in canon so I've gone with that.

Also, credit to Tathrin, the author of _Green-Eyed Snake_ for the descriptions of Slytherin's Common Room and Boys Dormitory.

The character Rachel Runcorn was included to balance out the number of Slytherin boys and girls – excluding Bart, of course.

In Bart's eyes, Harry can be considered a stand-in for Milhouse (who in this universe fears and avoids Bart). Both are unassuming introverts who wear glasses.


	5. Book 1: A Full First Day

**Chapter Five**

Bart woke the next morning and turned towards the other students. Much to his relief, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were on the other side of the room. As he was sublimely indifferent as to whether or not he was late to class, Bart had planned on disillusioning himself and waiting for his housemates to leave the dormitory. Unfortunately, before he could do so, an already-dressed Draco turned and saw Bart looking in his direction.

"Hey look, the Mudblood's awake!_"_ Draco sneered. The rest of his classmates went about their business while he did so, pretending that both Bart and Draco didn't exist.

Seeing that the Shield Charm over his bed was still active, Bart hoped to try and provoke Draco into cursing him. To this end, Bart politely replied, "Good morning to you too, my dear Draco. I heard you had a pretty late night. Did you have a good time?"

Draco snarled at this but nonetheless didn't take the bait, venomously replying, "I'll have an even better one knocking you down a peg, Mudblood!_"_

"What, with your lack of magical ability? I bet that you couldn't curse me even if I gave you a free shot. Speaking of which, why don't I give you one right now?" Bart questioned as he held his hands up, revealing that he was wandless. He saw that Draco was mulling over the possibility, so Bart decided that the blond needed just one more push. "Come on. You know you want -".

While Bart was talking, Draco yelled, "_Locomotor Mortis!_" shooting a nasty-looking purple curse in Bart's direction. Bart simply smirked as the curse hit the shield and bounced back at Draco. Draco managed to dodge it but unfortunately Goyle, who had just come out of the bathroom behind him wearing a towel, was not so lucky.

After being hit by the curse, Goyle's legs locked and his towel dropped, leaving him stark naked while hopping around the room with his legs together. At this, the room laughed uproariously, leaving Draco to glare at Bart as he realised that he had been tricked.

"You win this round Simpson, but the war isn't over!" Draco snarled as he freed Goyle from the bind using a counter-curse and then stormed out, with Goyle in tow and Crabbe scampering behind them.

After they left, Theo nodded at Bart. "Nice work, Simpson", he complimented.

"What, you think that's good, dude? I've got a lot more tricks up my sleeve", Bart bragged as, proving his point, he disillusioned and silenced himself, causing Theo to gape in shock. Eventually, not seeing Bart move, the other boy shook his head, finished dressing and walked out, as the black boy, whose surname was apparently Zabini, quickly followed. Bart sauntered into the shower and had been in there for some time when suddenly the door unlocked and opened. Before Bart could react, a hand reached in to grab his arm and drag him bodily out of the shower.

Much to Bart's horror, the person who dragged him out of the shower was none other than Gemma. Her usually pretty face was contorted into rage and at that moment, she scared Bart more than Sideshow Bob or Dr. Demento did.

"What the _hell_ have you been doing? Everyone else is in the hall eating breakfast except you! I searched for you in the halls and the common room", Gemma hissed.

Bart was tempted to tell her to eat his shorts, but at the moment she looked like she wanted to try and turn him into a slug. Not wanting to risk that, Bart sheepishly apologised.

"You want to be great, don't you Bart?" Gemma asked, using one of her delicate, slender fingers to lift Bart's head up so he made eye contact with her.

"Yes'm", Bart admitted.

"Well, then tell me. How do you expect to be a great wizard if you're so late to class that you don't get to learn anything new about magic? Do you really want the likes of Malfoy to become a better wizard than you, just because he attended class and you didn't?"

As Gemma expected, Bart looked revolted at the idea of Draco becoming a better wizard than him. His eyes narrowed in determination.

"I thought so. Now _get dressed_", she commanded, levitating his clothes into his arms with her wand.

Not wanting to cross her any further, Bart quickly complied, opened the door and ran up the stairs to the common room, with Gemma smirking as she followed.

* * *

Based on last night's events, she guessed that none of her fellow housemates would let Bart sit with them and so forced another housemate to move over, to which the boy glared but nonetheless reluctantly complied. As Bart sat down, Balthazar flew in and perched himself on his shoulder.

At witnessing this, Gemma laughed. "Looks like your owl finds your shoulder a good place to perch, Bart", she remarked.

"Yeah, he does that. Hopefully he doesn't poop down the back of my robes", Bart responded.

Balthazar then apparently decided to troll Bart by doing exactly that. Before he knew it, Bart felt something wet drop down the back of his robes.

"Balthazaaaaaaaaaaaaar…" he moaned, as Gemma saw the white streak and laughed before silently cleaning it.

After cleaning his robes, she discussed various things with Bart, including the annoying poltergeist Peeves and the areas where he typically inhabited so Bart could avoid him, before warning him about Filch's cat Mrs. Norris, who quickly brought Filch to wherever she last saw a student breaking a rule. This conversation was cut short when she saw the rest of the hall start to leave for classes and so told Bart to finish his food.

"But I don't even have a schedule! How the hell do I know where I'm going to go?" Bart querulously enquired.

Just as he uttered that last syllable, something papery materialised in his robe pocket. Lo and behold, it was a class schedule.

Bart looked at Gemma with wonderment. She in response gave him a little smile and replied cryptically, "Magic, my dear Mr. Simpson. The schedule materialises when it's time to head to your first class."

"Of course, Miss Farley_"_, Bart said in a mock British accent, playing along with Gemma's mock formality. She then led him to the correct classroom, which was on the third floor, before bidding him farewell.

* * *

As it transpired, much like in Ilvermorny, his first class was Charms, with the diminutive Professor Flitwick.

"Now class, why don't we start our lesson by learning how to perform a Levitation Charm?" the overly excitable dwarf asked. After outlining some theory regarding the charm, which caused Bart to tap his foot in impatience as he waited for the opportunity to show off in front of his classmates, he then asked the class to lift their feather up using their wands and utter an incantation which Bart couldn't have been bothered learning.

_Pfft…only rubes need a wand to lift things_, Bart arrogantly thought to himself as he made a big spectacle of himself by extravagantly waving his arm, imitating a Nazi salute, towards the feather and lifting it far higher into the air than all the other feathers. This predictably caught Professor Flitwick's attention.

"Mr. S-Simpson? Are you lifting the feather in the air with just your _arm?" _the man asked in absolute astonishment.

"Who says I need my arm or hand to lift things?" Bart cockily asked as he lowered his arm and kept the feather in place using the technique he had previously outlined to Gemma – by picturing the feather floating in his mind as he focused on it.

Professor Flitwick and the rest of the class gaped in surprise. Bart enjoyed the attention he received greatly, particularly the murderous glare he received from Draco and 'bob-girl' for upstaging them, along with the expressions of stupefied shock from Draco's two 'boyfriends'.

"Eat my shorts, Dranny", he mouthed, strengthening Draco's glare further and making Bart chuckle.

"T-twenty points to Slytherin, Mr. Simpson! I-I have to tell you that this is the finest display of the Levitation Charm I've ever seen from a first year", Professor Flitwick stuttered.

"Oh well, what can I say? I just practice every day", Bart replied with false humility, hoping for the small man to heap more praise on him. He was not disappointed.

"Mere practice cannot allow a first-year to do this! You are a truly extraordinary talent and you may receive the best-ever grades in Charms if you apply yourself_"_, Professor Flitwick gushed.

At this, Bart shook his head with more faux-modesty. In doing so, however, he failed to notice the looks Daphne and Tracey were giving each other, which only meant one thing, _we need to talk about Simpson after class._

Soon enough, the class ended, with Professor Flitwick telling Bart that it was a pleasure to have someone as gifted as he in their class.

_Heh, first time any teacher has told me _that_. Oh well, first time for everything_, he thought as he strode out of the classroom and to his next lesson. He saw Draco and his posse up ahead and thought, _Good. If they're ahead of me then they can't attack me from behind_, and strolled to the next class.

* * *

He failed to notice that Daphne and Tracey were around the corner, watching him walk into the distance before following him.

"Daph? Did you see what Simpson did? He lifted that feather and kept it in place without even using his hand!_" _Tracey exclaimed.

"Do you always need to commentate for the blind, Trace?" an irritated Daphne snarked, feeling most displeased at Bart for upstaging her very meritorious efforts in the Charms class, wherein she was able to lift her feather with a wand faster than everybody else. She expected to be the best student in class and he had just endangered that expectation without even trying.

"Oh come on, Daph, surely you enjoy the competition?" Tracey joked. When Daphne scowled at her, she responded, "Ok maybe you don't – but think about it! Simpson can help us undermine Malfoy's influence in Slytherin. Thanks to his father's influence in the wider wizarding world, he behaves as if he's the Supreme Snake and there is nothing we can do about it ourselves. I think that Simpson is gifted enough to do something, though. I mean, Malfoy has already called him a Mudblood in front of everyone, so I don't think he'll think twice about helping us if we ask him."

At this, Daphne nodded in agreement but noted, _"_Tracey. You know that I don't like Malfoy and I agree that Simpson could help us, but even talking to him is dangerous. Besides, I think that somebody in our house has already taken him under their wing. Farley."

Tracey frowned. "The fifth-year prefect? Why do you think that?"

Daphne explained, "Trace, Farley has been the only Slytherin who has willingly let Simpson sit down next to them – twice now, in fact. Did you also see how close he was to Farley when we were walking to the common room?"

Tracey nodded and pondered Daphne's questions before replying, "Wait a minute. I don't remember seeing Simpson on the train with the rest of the first-years. Do you think that he was with Farley the entire time?"

Daphne nodded to her half-blood friend. "Yes, I do. It's odd that a prefect would invite a first-year to sit next to them during the welcoming feast. She would only have done that if she knew Simpson already and seeing as how he's an American Muggleborn, she couldn't have known him before the train ride.

I think that he ran into her onto the train, showed her some of what he can do and so she took him under his wing. I have no doubt that she wants to use his talents to get rid of her family's enemies."

Tracey replied, "Yes, that would be a very Slytherin thing to do – use other people to achieve your own agenda."

"Yes, it is. That nobody else in Slytherin wants to openly associate with Simpson makes it even easier for Farley to influence him, since in his mind she's the only one he can trust. Farley won't give up that influence over him without a fight.

Besides, I've known Farley since I was a child - we attended many of the same pure-blood events. She was always a social climber, always using other people to further her status or her family's, because her family was not as wealthy or influential as many other pure-blood families.

At these events, she was always talking to people who she thought could help her achieve better grades, or potioneers whom she thought might buy her family's products, or high-ranking officials within the Ministry whom she thought could help secure her a position in the Ministry when she graduated or help her father get a promotion.

I've also heard that her family can be very ruthless if they don't get their way. Some time ago, they burnt down a rival apothecary that was taking business from them. They later bought out another apothecary, but there were stories about how the owners refused and so the Farleys hired a group of mercenaries to invade their home, attack them and mentally manipulate them into signing the contract."

At this, Tracey frowned and asked, "What do you want to do?"

"Well, I don't think that the Farleys and the Malfoys like each other much. The Malfoys don't trust the Farleys because they never joined the Dark Lord, while the Farleys aren't blood-supremacists like the Malfoys. If they were, Farley would never have given Simpson the time of day.

I think that Farley will get Simpson to take care of Malfoy for us at some point before she graduates. In that time, we should become friends with Simpson. When Farley graduates, she'll obviously be out of Hogwarts and so we can convince Simpson to help us more than Farley, since we'll be his biggest allies in Slytherin house."

Tracey smiled at Daphne's idea and asked, "So do you want to set up a secret meeting with Simpson? I'll give him the note – because I've already spoken to him, hopefully he knows that I have nothing against him."

"The note will have to be anonymous, just in case he goes and tells Farley. We'll also need to get him to sign a contract with a jinx on it – if he tries to talk about the meeting with anyone else, he'll become tongue-tied until he changes the subject. If he refuses to sign, we'll end the meeting", Daphne reasoned.

Tracey smiled and nodded in appreciation of Daphne's superior intellect and magical ability.

* * *

Bart then discovered that, like at Ilvermorny, Transfiguration followed Charms; only this time with Professor McGonagall rather than Professor Goldstein. Bart had nicknamed the black-haired witch 'Mrs. Skinner' after hearing her lecture the class about fooling around.

He planned on doing exactly that just to spite her, but before he did she transfigured a desk into a pig, and vice versa. Seeing an opportunity to upstage her and grab some attention, Bart, with his wand still in his pocket, transfigured an empty chair into a dog without uttering so much as a syllable. The middle-aged teacher was so shocked by this that the dog ran out of the room before she could even react.

"How do you like that, Mrs. Skinner?" Bart remarked as the entire class gaped at him bar Daphne and Tracey, who were giving each other looks of vindication, and Draco, who looked positively infuriated. Professor McGonagall, for her part, scowled at his remark before her lips curled into a thin smile.

"I like that quite a lot, Mr. Simpson", she even-handedly responded. "10 points to Slytherin for that brilliant display of transfiguration", she said, making Bart look quite smug, "and 10 points from Slytherin for your cheek. The name is also McGonagall, Mr. Simpson, not Skinner. If you call me that again I _will_ give you a detention."

Picturing Gemma turning him into a snail upon finding out that he got himself a detention in his first week, Bart gulped, to which the professor's smile broadened. Draco, his 'boyfriends' and 'bob-girl' also snickered. Bart, however, got to snicker in response when the rest of the class struggled to turn a matchstick into a needle, with only Daphne doing so. _Losers_, he thought.

* * *

Unfortunately for Bart, a class that he found far less fascinating came in the form of Herbology with the Ravenclaws, where a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout had them study and take care of various plants and fungi. Having no interest in plants and fungi whatsoever, Bart went through the motions, only stopping to think to himself, _Heh, Otto would enjoy finding out which plants he could smoke_.

However, the structure of the class, where students stood side-by-side in a row opposing the other house, allowed Tracey to slip a note into Bart's pocket at the end of class. Bart felt the note but before he could react Tracey had vanished into a crowd of Slytherin and Ravenclaw students.

History held no particular interest for Bart, so after he took his seat in History of Magic, which Slytherin had with the Hufflepuffs, he read the note.

_Simpson,_

_Please meet with my friend and me in an abandoned classroom on the 5__th__ floor, 3__rd__ door to the right of the stairwell after History of Magic. We would like to talk to you about some things, including surviving in Slytherin House._

_Regards,_

_Your future friend _

Bart read the note and became just a mite paranoid. He wondered who sent it; it couldn't have been a Ravenclaw because not only did he not actually know anyone from that house, but from what he could see Ravenclaws and Slytherins didn't exactly freely consort with each other in the halls. No, it had to be a Slytherin. The problem is that it could theoretically have been any of the first years who gave him that note, and that person might have been setting him up.

Considering it further, by the looks of them Bart doubted that Draco's 'boyfriends' were intelligent enough to set him up without Malfoy's input, whereas Zabini seemed to think himself too superior to interact with any of his classmates. That meant that the note must have come from Draco, 'bob-girl', Theo, Tracey, Daphne, Millicent or Rachel. Although Tracey had told Bart that they didn't have to be enemies, he was not entirely sure where he stood with her or anybody else.

Bart eventually decided that he would attend the meeting, but that if things looked dodgy he would quickly disappear. Before then though, he had sleep to catch up on, with Professor Binns' droning providing the perfect backdrop. To this end, he cast a Softening Charm on his History of Magic textbook, used it as a pillow and quickly fell asleep. At the end of the class, he thought, _W__ell, that's the best nap I've ever had. That guy was more boring than Skinner after a lobotomy. Now to go to this secret meeting._

To ensure that he wouldn't be followed, Bart turned into an abandoned classroom and cast his trusty Disillusionment and Silencing Charms before moving out, being sure to have his wand out on the way.

Upon discovering that he could not unlock the classroom door in question using his regular method, Bart whipped out his wand, chanted "_Alohomora Duo!"_, and stepped in with unusual diffidence. When he did, he discovered that Tracey and Daphne were looking back at him, wands outstretched. They then put their wands away.

"Don't worry, Simpson, we're not here to attack you. We just wanted to meet with you and discuss some things, since you are obviously disadvantaged in Slytherin due to being a Muggleborn", Daphne stated in her trademark posh, aristocratic accent, not wishing to reveal the true reasons for their overtures towards Bart.

"Yeah, so I read. No problemo; let's go", Bart insouciantly replied.

"Not just yet, Simpson. We need you to sign this contract, in which you promise not to tell anyone about this meeting, verbally or in writing. If you do, you will become tongue-tied until you change the subject. If you refuse to sign this contract, this meeting will end immediately", Daphne informed him whilst wincing inwardly at his American Muggle slang, putting forth a sheet of paper.

Bart thought for a minute. He didn't really want to go behind Gemma's back. On the other hand, these two girls could him very useful advice about surviving in Slytherin and in the wider wizarding world. He did, however, decide that he should ask for more in exchange for signing the contract.

"I'll only sign this contract if you two protect me from attacks from Draco and his cronies. You'll also teach me whatever spells you ladies happen to know", Bart calmly demanded.

Daphne and Tracey looked at each other for a long while before Daphne signed and replied, _"_Ok, Simpson. We'll have to be discreet about it though. We can't have Malfoy knowing we're looking out for you – it would be very bad for our standing in the house. We can only teach you widely-known spells, not family spells because we are not allowed to."

At this, Bart frowned, but nevertheless all three students amended and signed the contract.

Bart began by asking, "So what do you girls have to say about surviving in snake-land?"

At this, Tracey, who was familiar with both American and British wizarding and muggle culture due to her father, Julius, being a freelance curse-breaker, informed Bart that whenever he was in the Slytherin dungeons, he should avoid discussing his family in light of them being Muggles, something that Bart was all too happy to do.

However, Bart was aghast to hear that many Slytherins were unfamiliar with most Muggle technology, such as dishwashers, dryers, telephones and even televisions. Should Bart discuss such contraptions, they might think that he was infecting Slytherin with 'filthy Muggle culture' and so he would receive more severe 'corrective treatment' accordingly.

_How can I watch Krusty the Klown, and Itchy and Scratchy then?_ Bart thought in horror.

Tracey continued her spiel by suggesting to Bart, for much the same reasons as before, that he should stop using American Muggle slang when around other Slytherins, like 'cool', 'dude', 'awesome', 'no problemo', and 'man'. Moreover, even if Slytherins weren't prejudiced against him to begin with, they wouldn't understand what he was talking about, thus impeding communication and the formation of alliances, which were very important in a house filled with brutality and prejudice. They also told Bart that terms like 'snake-land' and 'snake town' could be seen as pejoratives to Slytherins and treated accordingly, so they insisted that Bart refer to his house as 'Slytherin' at all times.

Daphne interceded by suggesting that Bart avoid students who were suspected to be scions of former Voldemort operatives or their sympathisers, because they might have him harmed or even murdered on account of being a Muggleborn. They suspected these children to not only be Draco and his posse, but also enigmas like Theo Nott. Bart was surprised at this; Theo had been outright complimentary towards him that morning.

"So how do you girls know all this stuff about Slytherin?" asked Bart. "You've only been here for a day."

"Because our parents were in Slytherin and so they spoke to us about what being a Slytherin was like", came Daphne's reply, to which Tracey nodded in agreement.

Bart, who with a shock realised the potential consequences if he failed to heed their advice, nodded and went against his natural inclinations by actually putting quill to parchment and recording this information.

He then asked about their families and how they operated compared to regular Muggles. He soon discovered that both girls were unwilling to reveal much about their families, merely providing widely known information, such as their parents' occupations and siblings. Daphne's father, Cyrus, sat on the Wizengamot whereas her mother, Roxanne, was an Obliviator. Tracey was an only child whereas Daphne had a younger sister named Astoria. Tracey did not mention her mother at all, which piqued Bart's interest, but she ignored his attempts to probe further.

They concluded by setting another meeting for some time down the track. Bart realised their game; they were only willing to slowly release information to Bart over a long period of time.

When Bart asked why, Daphne merely answered in her eloquent but enigmatic way, _"_Simpson, you must understand that everybody in Slytherin has an agenda. That agenda often does not favour Tracey or me. If you were somebody close to you invaded your mind, at least you wouldn't give away much about us that this person could use against us."

"So what's your agenda, then?" Bart pointedly asked.

Daphne responded with a small smile, _"_You will discover that in time, Simpson. We are not Gryffindors; we do not reveal all our intentions or thoughts at once, or without thinking."

_Could have told Drainy that_, Bart thought bitterly, not appreciating Daphne's evasive answer.

"I'm sure that you were cunning and resourceful back in Muggle America, Simpson, but being cunning and resourceful in Slytherin means something else entirely. You really need to be more subtle and thoughtful about the way you act and talk when in Slytherin", Daphne finished.

Bart then bade farewell to them, but was trying to comprehend Daphne's words on the way out. _Somebody close to me; does she mean Gemma? What agenda could _she_ have? What can she do that he hasn't yet told me about?_

Daphne and Tracey saw Bart pondering Daphne's words as he left. They gave each other imperceptible smirks, knowing that they had planted a seed of doubt in Bart's mind about Gemma, and that he couldn't inform the calculating Prefect as to why he had that seed.

* * *

Some hours later, Bart trooped into the Slytherin common room after eating another delicious dinner. Immediately, he realised that something was wrong; the common room should not have been completely deserted at this hour.

Before he could react, however, the words "_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!_" rang out from in front of him and Bart fell on his back, as rigid as a board.

It was then that ten fellow Slytherins revealed themselves and rushed Bart, punching and kicking him until he was bloodied, bruised and broken.

As he took the blows, he realised that he had never felt so helpless in his life. Jimbo, Dolph and Kearney's attacks felt like tickles next to this unrelenting bombardment of pain, and at least with the former trio he had a chance to escape. Not this time.

The physical assault had ended soon enough, with an older blonde student yelling, _"_That's for defiling Slytherin House with your presence, mudblood!" as Bart's assailants backed off.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the verbal assault, as Draco smugly strode forward, placed his shoe on Bart's chest and pressed down, sending a shiver of pain through Bart's paralysed body.

Draco looked down at Bart, smiling sadistically at Bart's pain.

_Serves Simpson right for being a Mudblood upstart. It's good to see that so many Slytherins agree with me - it made it so much easier to attack the little git. I will eat Merlin's beard before I let Slytherin be stained by Mudblood filth!_

Draco then decided to talk Bart down, after which he talked himself up like he so often did.

_"_Whatever you were in your little dump in America, Simpson, at Hogwarts you are nothing more than a filthy Mudblood. You are not _fit_ to be a Slytherin.

If you embarrass me the way that you did in Charms and Transfiguration today, Simpson, I will beat you up until you get the message that I am better than you in every way.

Don't think that Farley can help you, either – while she's in Slytherin she dances to _my_ tune."

With that, Draco kicked Bart in the head, making his world go black.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Five:**

Dr Demento is a reference to 'Sideshow Bob Roberts'.

Not much to say about this chapter, really. Slytherin is clearly heavily politicised, with different parties having vastly discordant agendas. I hope the juxtaposition of Slytherins being nice to Bart with others beating him up displays that.

Daphne/Tracey do not behave like regular 11-year olds - they behave like intelligent 11-year olds who have been raised in a political environment where cunning/ambition are prized.

It stands to reason that, if Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs have Herbology together, then Ravenclaws and Slytherins should have Herbology together. It would make no sense for Hufflepuffs and Slytherins to have no classes together, so I gave them both History of Magic. In canon, Harry paid so little attention in History of Magic that Ravenclaws could have attended the same class and he would not have noticed.


	6. Book 1: Recovery and Discovery

**Chapter Six**

When Bart finally came to, he found himself in yet _another_ infirmary. As the infirmary appeared to be covered in what was gradually but inexorably creeping sunlight, Bart deduced that it must still be early in the morning.

_Two first days; two infirmaries. Just my luck_, Bart thought ruefully to himself, as the memory of his expulsion from Ilvermorny haunted him once again. _At least there don't seem to be any teachers waiting to expel me this time…_

Just to make sure, he tried turning his head. He succeeded but found that doing so sent him into a world of hurt that sent the memories of the rather brutal previous evening rushing through Bart's mind like a freight train.

The sight he saw was one for sore eyes, however; it was Gemma, asleep on a chair. In Bart's eyes, she looked as pretty as ever, with not one strand of her wavy brunette hair out of place, nor any blemishes on her perfect porcelain skin.

Bart's groan after turning her head caused her eyes to open, turn towards Bart, and look at him briefly as if he was The Bloody Baron, Slytherin's blood-stained, taciturn ghost. She then broke into a weak half-smile.

For Bart, that expression signalled her distress, because typically she gave Bart one of those stunning Cheshire Cat smiles that had been honed by years of practice schmoozing people.

"You're awake. How do you feel?" asked Gemma.

"Like I just went 50 rounds with Drederick Tatum", instinctively responded Bart. Seeing Gemma's perplexed frown, he winced and thought, _Oh crap, that's right. Daphne and Tracey told me not to mention anything No-Maj in front of the other Slytherins._

"Speaking of which –", Gemma began.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. No talking about Muggle stuff or Muggles in front of Slytherins."

Gemma looked surprised, as if she didn't expect Bart to correctly finish her sentence.

_I need to change the subject just in case she asks me how I guessed what she was going to say_, Bart thought frantically. "So Gemma, why are you still here? Why do you care about me that much? How did you even find me?"

Gemma considered her response briefly, not wanting to reveal too much of her plan for Bart, before replying, "Bart, I'm a Prefect. I _have_ to care about younger Slytherins. Besides, as I said I love the idea of nurturing a great talent like yourself. To do that, I need to make sure you recover from any attack."

Bart wasn't entirely convinced by her response, but his infatuation for Gemma led him to set his misgivings aside. He nodded at Gemma, inviting her to continue, to her relief.

"After I finished my prefect duties, I came into the common room and tripped over what turned out to be your disillusioned body. I performed a quick _Homenum Revelio_ – a spell that reveals people within a certain area", she clarified after seeing Bart's quizzical countenance, "and then found you. Merlin's beard, Bart – what happened? Didn't you use those spells I taught you about?"

Seeing Gemma's cross expression, Bart hastily clarified the situation. "They were hidden. They hit me with a curse that made my body freeze up and then I fell over, then they punched and kicked me when I was down. Then Drain-boy came up and threatened me before knocking me out. He said that you couldn't stop him and that I should expect to be beaten up some more if I showed him up in class again."

Hearing this made Gemma seethe, making Bart wish that Draco was with him so that he could receive the bitter medicine Gemma looked ready to dole out. "That little bastard", she growled.

She then considered her options. The Malfoys were politically more powerful than the Farleys due to their greater wealth, so Gemma could not use her family's political influence to bring Draco's father down and diminish Draco's hold over the other Slytherins, nor could she really bribe Slytherins who openly sided with Draco against Gemma and Bart.

No, in her mind, the best way to proceed was to figure out exactly who had attacked Bart, besides Draco. There were two possible ways of doing this: by using Veritaserum or Legilimency, respectively.

Although he treated her relatively favourably due to her being a top student in his Potions classes, Gemma nonetheless found her head of house, Professor Snape, to be at best taciturn and at worst unpleasant to talk with. He also doubted that he would simply _give_ her a restricted substance like Veritaserum, even if she explained her reasons. It would also take her too long to try and brew.

No, she would have to attempt Legilimency. Unfortunately, she wasn't particularly proficient at the practice. She had rarely received more than scattered, random memories whenever she tried it on her father and she had been learning since 3rd year, to try and probe the minds of Slytherin students who might want to harm or harass her and avoid them accordingly.

She was more accomplished in Occlumency, in which she had received lessons from her father since she was in her 3rd year, not just because they feared Voldemort's return, but because some older boys from Slytherin, less than pleasant ones at that, expressed both romantic and sexual interest in her. She needed to be able to shut them down without losing control of herself and thus displaying weakness for them to prey upon.

Gemma also practiced Occlumency regularly when attending pure-blood events, shutting down negative emotions. Since these emotions were not disrupting her thought processes, this enabled her to appear calm, polite and professional underneath her dazzling smile. A few potioneers in fact, were impressed by Gemma's manner and decided to enter into business with the family apothecary.

Bart was a prodigious talent, but he was also an excitable, expressive Muggleborn and those typically weren't resistant to Legilimency of any kind. Now all she had to do was have him open his mind up to her, necessitating his trust.

* * *

Luckily, the Matron Poppy Pomfrey concluded that Bart was free to leave, at which point, rather than going to the feast, Gemma led them both towards the Hogwarts Kitchens. After all, Bart needed to have a full stomach before she entered into his mind.

"Gemma, do you even know where we're going?" Bart asked with bemusement, to which Gemma responded with an amused snort.

"Bart, I'm a Prefect, remember? I'm _meant_ to know my way around the castle. Anyway, in my younger years at Hogwarts, a Slytherin student served detention down in Hogwarts kitchens. I don't remember what his name was. But he told the rest of my grade where we could go if we wanted free food at any time, including how to enter the kitchens.

Most of my fellow students laughed at him because they see house elves as nothing more than beasts of burden and so don't want to even see them, much less be around them for long. I have nothing against house elves; my house elves have always been faithful, loyal servants. They're only unpleasant if you abuse them."

"Do they get paid?"

"No, of course not. They just enjoy serving their master", Gemma responded with consternation.

Lisa would have reacted very angrily at this revelation and to be honest Bart wouldn't have blamed her. It reminded Bart of slavery, which he knew to be wrong.

"Bart, what's wrong?" a perplexed Gemma asked.

"See in Muggle America, the houses that have servants actually pay them."

"So it seems that there's a cultural clash between the Muggle and wizarding worlds going on. No, house elves get insulted if you try to pay them. To them, bonding to a family and doing work is payment enough."

"Different str-I mean, different wand swishes for different folks, huh?" leaving Gemma utterly flummoxed.

"Oh damn that's right, no more Muggle talk. I guess that pay is rewarding in some cultures and insulting in others. Like you said, there's a cultural difference. It's not bad or good. It just is", Bart rationalised.

"Very good, Bart. By the way, in higher wizarding circles you should not use the word 'damn'. It is seen as low-class. Also, be very careful of associating with any Gryffindors. We might not be so different than them in some ways, but our rivalry is so intense that openly associating with any of them will see you branded a traitor to Slytherin House and then brutally attacked the way you were last night."

At that prospect, Bart winced as if he was staring straight into the sun.

"What about Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs?_"_

"Ravenclaw's are mostly OK. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins don't have a formal rivalry, but their mind-set is very different from ours and we don't relate to each other very much. I would be very selective regarding whom you talk to in that house.

If you talk to a Muggleborn as a fellow Muggleborn, then Slytherins will assume that you are working with other Muggleborns to undermine Slytherin. Really stupid, but that's the mind-set that you will have to deal with in Slytherin."

Bart rolled his eyes contemptuously at that 'reasoning' but let Gemma continue.

"There are also other reasons to be careful about interacting with students from outside of Slytherin. How familiar are you with Professor Dumbledore?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore? He came to my house and took me to Diagon Alley to get my stuff, then came and took me to Kings Cross Station_"_, Bart explained.

Gemma cursed inwardly as she realised that the wizened wizard was already aware of Bart's talents. She had no doubt he was planning to keep an eye on Bart throughout his time at Hogwarts. No doubt he thought that he could mould him into somebody who could take care of any threats to the aged mage. After all, Gemma planned to use Bart for much the same reasons.

"What do you think of him?" Gemma innocently asked.

"He seemed nice enough, but I don't trust authority figures or teachers very much. My kindergarten teacher made sure of that. Besides, I was born a rebel and I'll die a rebel, baby", Bart answered flirtatiously.

Gemma giggled outwardly but inwardly she felt like doing a jig, realising that Bart was most unlikely to choose Professor Dumbledore's interests over Gemma's should they inevitably collide. Now to make _sure _that Bart didn't ally himself with the meddlesome Professor.

"Bart, do you know why Dumbledore came to collect you?"

"He just said that I was a really gifted wizard", came Bart's concise response.

Sighing, Gemma explained, _"_Bart, Dumbledore wants to spy on you and bring you around to his way of thinking. Then he'll use you against whatever opponent he's fighting against.

Listen, in my pure-blood wizarding circles - _"_

"By pure-blood do you mean all wizards?"

"Yes, now please listen. In these circles you hear things about other wizards, and that includes Dumbledore. I heard that, in his youth, he had been planning to not only dominate the wizarding world, but also the entire world, enslaving Muggles like your parents and having wizards like Dumbledore rule over them. He apparently used many wizards to try and achieve these goals", Gemma explained.

Bart looked absolutely mortified. He might not like authority figures as a matter of principle, but he was seriously struggling to connect the kindly headmaster that he had met with the megalomaniac that Gemma had just described.

"So-so how come he hasn't been executed or jailed for life?" Bart stuttered as he asked.

"Simple. He was originally working in concert with a Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald. Think of Grindelwald as being like the…Voldemort…of his time", Gemma continued, not wanting to utter Voldemort's name.

"However, it became apparent to Dumbledore that Grindelwald, rather than jointly ruling the world with Dumbledore, merely wanted to use Dumbledore to achieve world domination and then dispose of him. Dumbledore couldn't have that, so he defeated Grindelwald in battle and was hailed as a hero.

Over the years, he's become so influential, popular and powerful, that anyone who tried to seriously expose his past would at best be shunned and reduced to poverty. At worst…well, I think you can guess. Besides, how can anyone say such bad things about such a _kind man_?" Gemma rhetorically asked Bart with a cold smile.

She smirked as she surveyed Bart's reaction of complete horror to her words, knowing there and then that she had hooked him like a fish. However, she had only told Bart part of the truth. She _had _heard rumours that Dumbledore sympathised with Grindlewald's desire for world domination, but not necessarily that he had seriously tried to help him dominate the planet, much less use countless wizards to achieve that goal. Nor had she heard stories about him doing anything nasty to any public detractors, much less 'disappearing' them.

That didn't matter to Gemma, though. All that mattered to her was moulding Bart into a weapon that could help her to destroy and subjugate her enemies and if compelling him to distrust Dumbledore was necessary to achieve that goal, then so be it. Anything to prevent her family from being placed in a compromising position again. Besides, what Bart didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"S-so, which families or students should I look out for in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?" Bart croaked.

"Well, in your year, these students' families have been reputed to be close to Dumbledore in some fashion – Padma Patil, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Ernest MacMillan, Zacharias Smith, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot. Bones in particular, because her aunt tried to have my parents prosecuted for assisting…Voldemort", Gemma replied venomously.

_Boot and Goldstein? They can't be related to Seraphinus or Professor Goldstein, can they?_ Bart wondered, with those surnames rendering him near-catatonic with shock.

"_Did_ your family help him?"

"My parents avoided prosecution for that very thing, so I would say not", Gemma replied, taking care not to provide Bart with too much detail, lest that affect his trust in her.

Bart was so busy contemplating her reply that he didn't notice his foot sliding into a four-legged creature. Bart looked down and saw a scrawny, skeletal-like cat looking up at him with bulging yellow eyes. In a flash, she ran off.

"That's Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. We need to disappear because Filch will be here in a moment", Gemma hissed.

"If she's Mrs. Norris, then who the hell is Mr. Norris? Filch?" Bart querulously asked.

Ignoring Bart's question, Gemma quickly and non-verbally disillusioned and silenced them both. A moment after she did, Mrs. Norris came back with Filch.

"Who's there my swEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET?" Filch screamed as his body thrust itself bolt upright. Mrs. Norris looked at her master in alarm, with Bart taking advantage of her being distracted to whip a stink bomb out of his pocket, toss it up in the air and transfigure it into a rat.

Mrs. Norris might have been an exceptionally intelligent cat, but a cat she still was. The scrawny creature bolted after the rat, with Filch limping behind her as he yelled "Come back, my sweet!"

When they were both gone, Gemma removed the charms on both herself and Bart.

"Bart, that was absolutely brilliant! What did you DO to Filch?" she asked, shaking with laughter.

"Oh, I just gave him a wedgie to end all wedgies. It'll wear off in a bit", Bart answered nonchalantly as Gemma burst out laughing.

They went down a staircase and into a stone basement corridor. Gemma tickled the pear on a painting depicting a bowl of fruit and, when a green door handle materialised, led Bart into the kitchens. Bart couldn't believe his eyes at what he saw; a multitude of tiny creatures with bat-like ears, bulging eyes and rags for clothes.

"_These _are house-elves?" Bart asked, agog, as they saw them and surrounded them. One tugged at his robe and asked him, "Does student want food?"

After a moment, Bart replied, _"_Yes, students want food."

In a flash, they were sat down at a table and given a sumptuous meal.

"Talk about quick service", Bart quipped.

However, they were not undisturbed during their meal, as a pair of stocky twins with distinct red hair and freckled features gambolled into the room. When they saw Bart and Gemma, they stopped.

"Well, well, well! Well, well, well!" they both exclaimed in a rising pitch, to the point where their voices sounded like they were both castrati in a helium-infused room at the end of the last 'well'. "If it isn't Slytherin's first Muggleborn student for at least 500,000 years, and Percy's fellow pestering Prefect, Gemma Farley. What's Percy like to work with, Little Miss Prefect? As insufferable as he is to live with?"

"Every bit, Weasleys", Gemma noted sourly. "What are you even doing down here? Shouldn't you two be at the feast?"

"We finished early and came down here to collect some goodies. Never thought I'd see Slytherins down here – they're all bullying gits who think that they're too good to deal with house elves, unless they're beating them", one of them jibed.

Not rising to their bait, Gemma brusquely replied, _"_Well hurry up, otherwise I'll give you a detention."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that, your Highness!" came their rejoinder as they collected their sweets from the house-elves before leaving.

Unfortunately for Bart, Gemma heard his chuckling. _"_They're a real barrel of laughs, aren't they?" she asked coldly, daring him to say yes as he gazed into her burning brown eyes.

Bart hesitated and noted, _"_I get the feeling that you don't really like them."

"Well, they annoy their ponce of a brother, the one that caught us on the train, so they're not all bad, but they constantly harass Slytherins. They even turned my hair a rainbow colour once!" to which Bart tried not to snigger.

_Hmmmm…these twins seem like pretty cool dudes_, Bart thought, but as he was doing so Gemma's hand suddenly took his wrist as she whisked him out of the kitchens, took him into the stone corridor, transfigured a couple of chairs using a couple of knuts and made him sit.

"Now Bart, I am going to find out who attacked you, besides Malfoy, so I can punish them accordingly. To do, I am going to have to join your mind to mine so I can see actually what happened", Gemma explained.

"What, you mean like mind-reading?" Bart asked, recalling that time at Ollivander's, when Headmaster Dumbledore had previously probed his mind.

At this, Gemma sighed before explaining herself. _"_No Bart, the mind is not like a book. I mean, I can't start at Page 1, or the first day of your life and proceed chronologically from there. My experience with Legilimency is that you have to navigate the mind and search for certain feelings or memories. In the case of other Slytherins, I was searching for feelings or memories that indicated a desire to harm or harass me in some way."

"So basically, you have to try and think about the incident as best as you can after I cast the spell. The process might be uncomfortable, but it is the best way to let me help you so we can get this whole business over and done with", Gemma finished.

Bart nodded, relaxed and focused upon that memory before Gemma looked him in the eyes, cocked her wand towards him like a pistol, and uttered, "_Legilimens!_"

The resultant sensation was not painless, like when Dumbledore probed his mind. Indeed, it forced Bart's head back as he gasped in pain and shock, with the memory of the incident flittering before his eyes like a motion picture on fast forward. The sensation soon ceased as quickly as it began and Bart's head lurched forward.

Gemma touched his left shoulder and tenderly asked, _"_Are you OK?"

Bart felt like firing back an insult, but held his tongue and merely uttered flatly, "Yeah, fine. Who else can do that? I mean, besides Dumbledore?"

Gemma responded, _"_The other teachers might be able to do it, so don't look them in the eyes. On another note", Gemma said with a warm thin-lipped smile, "I've managed to identify your attackers. The blond who called you a Mudblood was Lucian Bole, a Beater on Slytherin's Quidditch team. I doubt that the Quidditch captain, Marcus Flint, sanctioned Bole's involvement in this attack. He might be a thug, but he's also a 5th year, so he knows that I have been protecting you and that I would magically eviscerate any 5th year Slytherin who acted against my interests.

Remember, in Slytherin, power means strength, and I'm one of the most powerful witches in the school. As for the 6th and 7th years, they're too pre-occupied by their upcoming final exams, or N.E.W.T's, to worry about feuds between first years, even influential ones like Malfoy.

I think that Bole participated because he has all the brainpower of a particularly inbred troll." At this crack, Bart chucked, before Gemma continued.

"Two other participants are named Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle; you might know them as Malfoy's dunderheaded associates. Merlin knows why they became Slytherins; they're more like thuggish Hufflepuffs. The rest were all 4th years and below, so younger than me."

"What are you going to do to them?"

"Well, let's just say that when I get my hands on them, they will be serving quite a few night-time detentions, with Malfoy's going on top of his existing ones. Plus they'll all mysteriously come down with some rather searing gas pain at the same time I give them detentions_"_, Gemma nastily chortled as she winked at Bart, to which Bart smiled evilly, before she continued.

"However, I do recommend learning the _Homenum Revelio_, or human revealing, charm so you can scope around corners in the Slytherin common room or dormitories, just in case somebody else wants to attack you", she advised, quickly showing Bart the charm. Showing his adaptability and resourcefulness, Bart mastered it in mere minutes.

"The second, more permanent method of dealing with this problem is to challenge Draco to a wizard's duel", Gemma explained after successfully tutoring Bart.

"You mean fight him with magic?"

"Yes. There is a place called the Slytherin Duelling Dungeon which helps to resolve disputes and power struggles between fellow Slytherins. Both prestige and respect are on the line. Should Malfoy lose, the older students might not join your side on account of you being a Muggleborn, or approve if the other first-years sit with you, but they will stop doing his bidding on account that he isn't a respectable enough wizard, even with Lucius' influence. We'll have it on the second Sunday from now, at 12pm, as per Slytherin tradition. I'll also place a notice on the noticeboard while you tell the rest of the first years_"_, Gemma explained.

"Let me guess, you'll teach me a few curses in that time while Drakey-Wakey is too busy serving detention to learn anything. Who said Slytherins had to fight fair, huh?_"_ Bart slyly noted, to which Gemma gave him a knowing smirk.

"Well, _somebody_ has to teach you. I don't think that gibbering fool Quirrell will. From what I saw of him yesterday, he stutters so much that he can barely form complete sentences, much less teach anything_"_, Gemma sneered.

Bart was accustomed to dealing with incompetent teachers and, hearing Gemma's description of the man, smirked, as in Professor Quirrell he saw a mark that could easily be thrown off guard.

"Speak of the devil, looks like I have Defence Against the Dark Arts next", Bart remarked.

"Wonderful. I should make sure you get there, being a Prefect and all. We will meet in the Slytherin Common Room at 8pm tomorrow and then we will walk to the correct room together. Be there", she warned as she walked Bart to his Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Six:**

A Slytherin serving detention down in the kitchens is a reference to _Hogwarts: A Mystery_. The person serving detention is the Player Character, who can be of any house.

The Slytherin Duelling Dungeon exists in the _Chamber of Secrets_ video game.


	7. Book 1: To Trouble Teachers

**Chapter Seven**

Upon entering the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the first scent that hit Bart's nostrils was the unmistakeably pungent smell of garlic.

He then laid his eyes on Professor Quirrell and realised that he was the turbaned teacher; the only one besides Dumbledore who didn't glare at Bart during the Sorting Ceremony.

_Heh heh heh, he's a newbie. He'll be even easier to embarrass than I thought_, Bart inwardly cackled, before he set about his inglorious work.

"Hey dude. What's with the garlic; do you meet with vampires? Was one of them named Eric Shen?" Bart immediately asked Professor Quirrell, ignoring Daphne's glare, Tracey's rolling of the eyes, the sniggers from Theo, Rachel and Millicent, and the smirks which were exchanged between Draco and his posse at the sight of the previously victimised Muggleborn.

"N-n-n-no, i-it i-is a-actually to w-ward off a R-Romanian v-vampire –"

"Oh, rrrriiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggghhhhhht", Bart interrupted as he feigned acceptance. _"_Why do you stutter like that? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?"

The class gasped and Professor Quirrell looked affronted as he answered, "N-no, t-the st-stuttering i-is b-because - "

"T-T-T-TODAY TEACHER!" Bart hollered, to gasps and sniggers from most of the class.

When the beleaguered professor tried to respond, Bart asked, _"_What's with the turban? Are you like a Wizard Hindu or something?"

Rather than interrupting him, Bart then just decided to sit back and enjoy the excruciating sound of Professor Quirrell struggling through a sentence about allegedly being gifted the turban by an African prince because he fought off a zombie.

"Cooooooooooool. So how much human flesh did the zombie eat?" Bart asked in feigned wonder.

"W-well, I-I don't w-want to t-talk about…"

"Did the zombie eat some brains too?"

"I-I don't r-remembe…"

"Did it pop any eyeballs?_" _

"N-no -"

"Was the prince's name Idi Amin? Oh wait, he used to eat human flesh himself, didn't he?" Bart mockingly asked.

Bart's sarcastic question was met with some looks of befuddlement, because obviously the pure-blood children had no idea who Idi Amin was, but also with wide-eyed looks of horror and a smug chuckle from the reliably misanthropic Zabini.

_So he actually has a sense of humour – that's a revelation for the ages_, Bart sarcastically thought, having noticed Zabini's lack of reaction to Bart's previous cracks. After some silence, Bart decided to twist the knife some more.

"So was the zombie Voldemort?" asked Bart with feigned innocence.

However, while he expected to get a rise out of the class, he nonetheless underestimated the magnitude of the resultant reaction. Quirrell turned a distinct shade of green, Tracey, Millicent and Rachel gasped, Theo and 'bob-girl' stared at him as if he had just confessed to seven murders, Draco hissed, "How dare you speak of the Dark Lord, Mudblood!", Draco's 'boyfriends' looked even more gormless than normal and an already upset Daphne went red with rage. Even the typically insouciant Zabini stared at him with genuine intrigue.

"Ooooh, tough crowd. Well I'll just be on my way. Nice meeting you, Professor Squirrel", Bart sarcastically said before turning to Draco. "Hey Draco. I challenge you to a wizarding duel, 12pm, second Sunday from now, Slytherin Duelling Dungeon. One-on-one, not me versus you and your stupid friends. Just wands, no other objects. Do you accept? Or are you a _coward?_"

The whole class gasped as Draco went white with rage. In truth, the blond boy was conflicted about the whole idea. On one hand, he was much more experienced with magic and didn't want to chicken out from fighting someone he considered inferior. Besides, doing so would lose him face in front of his classmates.

On the other hand, he was already serving two weeks of detention and so he had less time to prepare than Bart. Maybe, just maybe, maybe he could fool the Muggleborn into postponing or even effectively nixing the proposed duel.

"Alright Simpson, I accept", Draco sneered. _"_But I want a second to take my place in case something happens to me."

Bart scoffed, "Nice try, Dra-cone, but I used to fake sickness to teachers all the time before exams. I won't have a second, so you won't either. Accept these conditions or don't accept at all."

"Fine – but you'll _regret_ this, Simpson", Draco spat in rage, having one excuse for avoiding the duel taken away from him.

"Yeah, _sure_ I will", Bart sneered. With that, he gave Draco a mock salute and headed towards the exit. Before anyone could react, he flipped a knut out of his pocket, transfigured it into a skateboard, cast human revealing, disillusionment and silencing charms respectively, and careened away as fast as his skateboard could carry him, with the rest of the Slytherins watching with combined expressions of anger, bemusement and shock.

The whole episode seemed to turn Quirrell into even more of a quivering wreck as he struggled to even form words from then onwards. Eventually, the whole class left, with most of them desiring to mince Bart and feed him to Manticores.

_When I see Simpson, I'll make _sure _he doesn't behave like that again_, thought Daphne angrily.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bart, having long since vanished his skateboard, decided not to brave the common room. Instead, on discovering that he had Potions with the Gryffindors, he trooped down to the dungeons well ahead of the other Slytherins. To his surprise, he discovered two Gryffindors walking ahead of him; one with raven and the other with red hair.

_Wait, that's Harry!_, Bart thought as he revealed himself. He then called out, with both Gryffindors turning around in shock. Harry greeted Bart with a smile, whereas Ron looked irritated.

"Hey, Bart! I haven't seen you since the first night!" Harry greeted.

"Well, if it isn't the slimy snake Simpson! Why aren't you with the rest of your snaky friends?" Ron jeered, to which Harry scowled at Ron.

"Well, that's because they probably want to murder me for disrupting Quirrell's lesson and challenging Dra-coma to a duel right in front of them." After they sniggered at Bart's nickname for Draco, Ron and Harry finally registered what Bart had done. When they did so, Ron stared at him wide-eyed and Harry looked confused.

"Magic duel?" Harry asked.

"It's where two wizards fight each other with wands at a time and location of their own choosing", Ron replied, awestruck. "Simpson, I don't know whether to call you awesome or crazy. Malfoy's a pure-blood; he would know how to perform more magic than you."

"Oh, don't you worry. I have a few tricks up the old sleeves", Bart replied with a knowing grin. At this, Ron rolled his eyes.

"Of course, you're a slimy snaky sleazy slippery Slytherin after all. Well, I thought I'd never say this to one of your lot, but good luck Simpson", Ron stated.

"Gee, thanks Ron. Coming from you, that means more than being showered with all the money in that Gringotts place", Bart replied with tongue firmly in cheek, to which Harry chuckled and Ron scowled.

"Find him funny do you, Harry?" Ron asked with rising irritation.

"Well he wants to fight Malfoy, so he's alright in my books, Ron", Harry tersely replied.

After some consideration, Ron admitted, _"_I guess he's not all bad. But he's still a Slytherin."

"Hey guys? I'm right here", Bart joked, before the door swung open to reveal a man with greasy, black, shoulder-length hair, a hooked nose and cold, black, soulless eyes that surveyed Harry with the coldest hatred he had seen since the last time Sideshow Bob confronted him.

_Hey look, it's Batman in disguise!_ Bart thought to himself upon seeing the man's black cloak.

"Well, isn't this a most _touching_ display of house unity?" the man sneered. "I'm Professor Snape, your potions teacher and Mr. Simpson's head of house. You're obviously our new…_celebrity_…Harry Potter", the man sneered, drawing out the word 'celebrity' with obvious mocking contempt. _"_Thought you could upstage your classmates by arriving early, huh Potter? One point from Gryffindor for your arrogance."

Surveying Ron, he sneered, _"_You're obviously another Weasley. Get inside the classroom with Potter before I dock you points too. I wish to have some words with our newest _prankster"_, surveying Bart with loathing as he drew out the word 'prankster'. They both gave Bart a forlorn glance before shuffling inside.

Bart would normally have been overjoyed at having points taken off other houses, but even he, with his limited sense of fair play, was somewhat taken aback by Professor Snape's obviously arbitrary, unfair behaviour. However, he had little time to contemplate said behaviour before the cloaked professor grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a classroom corner. Bart, remembering Gemma's advice, assiduously tried to avoid eye contact with the man.

"Listen, Simpson. I know of your deeds in the Muggle world. In fact, you've become something of a legend in the wizarding teaching community because of them. But let it be known that you will not get away with such shenanigans in my class, you unrepentant delinquent. If you put a toe out of line, I _will_ give you a detention. Understand?" Professor Snape hissed venomously.

Upon hearing the word detention, Bart was confronted with the image of Gemma angrily turning him into half a rat. Throwing a resentful glare in Snape's direction, Bart thought, _We'll see, Batman_, before responding very stiffly, _"_Yes, sir."

At this Professor Snape released him, briefly wondering why he didn't make eye contact before stalking away.

As soon as the vindictive professor did, Bart surreptitiously vanished and silenced himself when the other Slytherins entered, not wanting to kick-start another confrontation with them so soon. As they passed him, he noted the pickled animals floating in glass jars on the walls and thought, _Coooooool. It's like a real-life mad scientist's lab_.

After they had all taken their seats, he stealthily sat behind Harry, Ron and Hermione at the very back, and whispered, "Heads up, Harry, I'm right behind you", before revealing himself.

Before Harry could say anything, Professor Snape called Harry's name and again sarcastically referred to him as their new celebrity. Bart would have soaked in the attention, but Harry looked very uncomfortable being called that.

"Oh come on Harry. Enjoy your celebrity", Bart encouraged, which earnt him a glare from Harry.

Unfortunately, as Bart said that, Professor Snape once again referred to Bart as their newest prankster with a glare. Enough so that in fact, that Draco turned to face him and mouthed, "Just you wait, Simpson. You'll get yours."

In response, Bart fleetingly swished his hand as if to remind Draco of their upcoming duel. As Bart expected, this caused Draco to scowl and turn around. _Checkmate, dude_, Bart thought.

While Bart and Draco were engaging in their little power play, Professor Snape was making what to Bart's ears seemed like an incredibly pretentious speech, replete with lyrical about potion fumes "bewitching the mind" and other assorted magniloquence. He then inferred that most of his students were "dunderheads", which reminded Bart uncomfortably of his kindergarten teacher's disdainful attitude.

_I'll _definitely_ have to knock him down a few pegs_, Bart thought, still smarting from the earlier confrontation.

"Potter!" Professor Snape barked. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" the hook-nosed man coldly asked, to which Harry admitted ignorance.

"Clearly celebrity isn't everything", Professor Snape sneered.

"Simpson!" the greasy-haired professor continued. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Bart knew what his game was; he had seen the likes of Edna Krabappel do it a million times before. Put him on the spot and have him humiliate himself as he said the wrong thing. Unfortunately, he didn't know the answer this time, but that didn't mean he couldn't irritate the professor with his answer.

"I would look where you told me to look."

Professor Snape's eyebrow twitched in irritation at his answer but he nonetheless responded. "But what if I didn't tell you where to look, Simpson?"

"Then I would ask", Bart responded, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

The hook-nosed man became ever more irritated but nonetheless tersely replied, "But what if I refused to tell you?"

"Then I wouldn't look", came Bart's innocent reply.

The reactions to Bart's response varied from sniggering, to perplexity, to annoyance. Professor Snape himself looked to be on the verge of exploding. However, he calmed down and promised himself that if Bart took the piss out of him like that again, he _would_ slap him with a detention after class.

"Let's try another question, shall we, Simpson?" the professor sneered. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Not knowing the correct answer, Bart considered his reply. He suspected that Professor Snape was all too ready to thrust a detention upon him if he provided yet another smart-alecky quip, thus placing him in Gemma's bad books. In the end, he decided to answer the cloaked man's question…with another question. Hopefully the lack of overt disrespect in doing so would avert a detention.

"Are they similar, or maybe the same?" Bart ventured.

At this, the professor raised his eyebrows, as if surprised that Bart said something that approached a correct answer. Losing his composure briefly, he ordered Hermione, who had her hand raised the entire time, to sit down before quickly regaining said composure.

"Ahhhh Simpson. Despite your _obvious_ lack of insight or knowledge, you managed to stumble upon something approaching a correct answer. However, it would have helped immensely if you had _actually read the book_. Don't think you can just improvise your way through my class", Snape lectured, being rewarded with a scowl from Harry and sniggers from Draco and his 'boyfriends'.

_Damn. Snape and Mal-formed still got one over me_, Bart thought, as he just about refrained from sniping back at the antagonistic teacher.

Professor Snape then explained what those substances were before ordering the class to write them down. Naturally, Bart wrote as little on his parchment as he thought he could get away with.

From there, things didn't get much better, as the professor paired them all up and instructed them to conjure up a potion which could cure boils. Unfortunately, Professor Snape paired Bart with a Gryffindor boy who was apparently about as intelligent as he looked – which was to say, not very.

Bart soon realised why the cloaked menace did that – if the Gryffindor stuffed up, then he would humiliate Bart in front of Draco, whom Professor Snape seemed to like, judging by his comparative deference towards the boy. If both Bart and his Gryffindor partner were injured in the process, all the better.

To prevent this, he requested of the other boy, "Hey, um, Neville. Just hand me stuff when I ask you to and I'll prepare it and put it in the cauldron, alright?"

"S-sure", the other boy stuttered, apparently surprised that Bart, a Slytherin, was not only civil towards him, but also addressed him by his first name.

Now, Bart was no Michelin chef, but he could read instructions when the mood took him, and his excellent fine motor skills meant that he could cut, crush and weigh fangs and nettles to the required standard. However, while his potion was adequate, Bart still felt sour at having Snape and Draco get one over him. However, he soon saw the perfect opportunity to get back at them.

He saw Professor Snape and Draco with their backs to him, examining Draco's potion while the cauldron was still on the fire. Draco was looking as smug as ever, so Bart surmised that the older man was stroking his ego. In one fluid motion, Bart whipped out his slingshot, fired a porcupine quill at Draco's cauldron and disillusioned his slingshot before placing it underneath his shoe.

Bart's aim was true; the porcupine quill sped across the room and slammed into Draco's potion with a resounding PLINK! Before Professor Snape could react, the dungeon was filled with loud hissing and acrid green smoke. Draco's cauldron then became a twisted blob, with the potion burning holes into people's shoes as it slowly seeped towards Bart.

Instinctively, Bart hoisted Neville onto the stool and witnessed a most pleasurable sight; Draco and Professor Snape soaked in potion, moaning in pain as they were covered from head to toe in angry red boils.

As soon as the hook-nosed menace was able to recover his bearings, he whipped a Cure for Boils out of his pocket and consumed some himself before giving the rest to Draco.

"Crabbe, Goyle, take Malfoy to the hospital wing to assist in his recovery. I'm going to find out who did this and _expel_ them", Snape spat, with Bart smirking as the terrible trio passed him.

_Ok Bart, stay frosty. Don't make eye contact and don't move your shoe_.

"POTTER!" Professor Snape barked. _"_Turn out your pockets!"

When Harry did, Snape found nothing. He also peered into Harry's eyes and seemed surprised by what he saw – no evidence of guilt whatsoever.

_So he _can _read minds_, Bart thought.

"One point from Gryffindor for failing to prevent the incident, Potter", Snape finally hissed.

Bart was bemused by Snape's unreasonableness towards Harry, thinking, _Man, he really has it in for Harry. Did Harry kick his dog or something?_

However, he was momentarily surprised that the professor didn't round on _him_ next, before remembering with a thrill of horror, _He won't confront me in front of the Gryffindor students. Snape might be a jerk, but he still has to treat Slytherins better than Gryffindors in _some _way, because 'house unity'. No, he'll confront me after class._

Bart then surreptitiously collected and pocketed his slingshot, wrote down Snape's homework and, after stealthily silencing and vanishing himself, bolted out the door before the enraged professor could tell him to stay.

Unfortunately, while Bart escaped Professor Snape's clutches, having called for him and received no response, despite various students confirming that he was previously there and had in fact copied down the homework, his vanishing act did not escape the notice of two students: Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass. Both wanted to have some sharp, visceral words about Bart regarding his conduct, especially Daphne, who desired to figuratively _maul_ him by this point.

* * *

For his part, Bart thought that he was safe from both Daphne and Professor Snape for the time being. He probed his common room for intruders and found nothing out of the ordinary; just a group of students going about their business. He proceeded down the stairs when suddenly, as he entered his dormitory, two pairs of hands roughly shoved him back first into a wall.

He was greeted by a most unwelcome sight; Daphne was inches from his face, with a face as red as Mars. A similarly angry Tracey was standing just to her right. To ensure that he could not move, Daphne had pinned his arms to the wall, while Tracey placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. This made Bart feel seriously uncomfortable, at which Tracey sniggered.

_Hope they don't have any cooties_, Bart thought, as he realised that _Homenum Revelio _didn't reveal exactly _who _was in the area. He was shaken out of his reverie by Daphne's voice, which while being very quiet exuded pure rage.

"You know, Simpson, after all the effort Tracey and I made to meet with you secretly, at possible cost to our reputation, and tell you how to behave among Slytherins, I didn't think that today you would go out and act like the worst type of Gryffindor. In other words, like a complete prat who thinks nothing of causing trouble and doesn't even take the prospect of getting expelled seriously. Plus you still behaved like an American Muggle in using that slang.

Firstly, you disrupt Quirrell's lesson by asking him offensive questions, then you brazenly challenged Malfoy to a duel in front of everyone, then you mentioned You-Know-Who's name, then you left on a Muggle contraption, then you decided to give Snape stupid answers to his questions, then you gave Malfoy and Snape boils out of spite!"

When Bart looked surprised at Daphne knowing this, she responded, "You were the only student in that class who would be reckless enough to do that to Snape, especially since he tried to embarrass you twice. I don't think Potter would have done it; I think he's too polite. That leaves _you. _

Simpson, none of what you did today was cunning, shrewd or subtle and the only drive you showed was a drive to get expelled_._"

Daphne felt like slapping Bart for his behaviour, but she didn't want to alienate such a brilliant and potentially helpful talent further. Instead, she took a different approach.

Her original goal was to let Gemma Farley have Bart take care of Malfoy for them and slowly ingratiate Tracey and herself to Bart over a number of years, so that when Farley graduated, Bart would have Daphne and Tracey as his biggest allies and thus would serve _their_ interests more than Farley's.

However, Bart's brazen behaviour put him at risk of getting expelled before that could even occur. Daphne therefore realised that she needed to be very direct to Bart and explain to him exactly what their agenda was. After all, a Slytherin he might be, but he clearly had more than a few Gryffindor traits.

"Bart_"_, deliberately using his first name to ingratiate herself with him just as Gemma did, _"_I'm frustrated because I want to see you be the great wizard that you have shown that you can be, but it seems that all you want to do is insult teachers, settle scores and play practical jokes.

To be great, you really should listen to us because Tracey and I know the wizarding world much better than you do. I am also a model student, so if you let me help you with your schoolwork you will do well. I also want to help you defeat Malfoy, since I am a better witch than he is a wizard.

As for behaving in class, you should do so because being outside is more fun than being in detention, plus you get more attention outside than in detention", Daphne said with a smile, hoping to manipulate Bart's obvious need for attention.

"That's c-I mean, _good_. So what will you get in return?_" _Bart asked, having quickly become acquainted with Slytherin's agenda-driven, _quid pro quo modus operandi_.

"Simple, Tracey and I receive a chance to become friends with a really talented wizard. We can openly become friends once you defeat Malfoy, because Malfoy's reputation will be discredited next to yours, since he would have shown himself not to have enough power or strength.

When I say that we can openly become friends, I mean that Tracey and I will sit next to you in class, but not in the Great Hall. Older students may still give us grief over openly associating with a Muggleborn", Daphne explained.

"I'm thinking that he might skip the duel", Bart admitted.

"Don't be. If he does, the news will be spread throughout Slytherin House and quite possibly the whole school. Slytherins might not respect bravery like Gryffindors, but that doesn't mean that they appreciate complete cowardice, like a pure-blood refusing to fight a Muggleborn with supposedly little-to-no understanding of magic or the wizarding world after having accepted a challenge.

You'll gain respect because you showed that you could achieve a goal, which was to beat Malfoy, by training and showing up, whereas Malfoy would not have shown that and so he will not receive the same respect."

"That's…a very interesting way of looking at it", Bart contemplated.

Daphne nodded as Bart considered her words. Gemma was Bart's most important ally and would be for the foreseeable future, but although he was infatuated with her, he knew that realistically, she wouldn't always be at Hogwarts. He needed other allies at Hogwarts when she graduated.

"Now I assume that we won't become friends with Theo because his father worked for Voldemort, but what about Millicent and Rachel?"

To that, Daphne responded, _"_Bulstrode would make an effective enforcer, but not much else. However, she would probably identify with Tracey as a fellow half-blood, so she's worth approaching.

Runcorn's an enigma. Her father works at the Ministry of Magic and while there's no evidence that he served You-Know-Who, I have heard that he sympathises with many of their prejudiced beliefs against Muggleborns. She did shake your hand that night, so she may not feel the same way, but you should be careful around her.

Oh, you also used You-Know-Who's name again, so obviously you don't understand why you shouldn't. The demon actually had a trace on his name which allowed him to track down people who said his name because the people who did, like Dumbledore, were often his enemies. That, and it's not the polite thing to do in modern society. We pure-blood ladies are very much raised to be polite", she noted.

It was then that Bart _finally _realised why Gemma seemed so uncomfortable uttering Voldemort's name, as Daphne turned her nose up at Bart in a subtle attempt at humour.

Unfortunately, Bart didn't really get the joke, instead simply asking a _non sequitur_ of a question, "How come I needed to use _Alohomora Duo_ to unlock that door when I entered that classroom that day?"

Daphne sighed and replied, _"_Bart, I used a spell called _Colloportus_, which locks doors. You needed to specifically use _Alohomora_ or _Alohomora Duo_ to unlock the door. If you didn't know how to do that, we would have opened the door after you told us whom you were."

Bart nodded in understanding, so both Tracey and Daphne released Bart, at which point they all walked out of his dormitory. They let him walk ahead to their Astronomy class, allowing them to watch his back in case Draco had a 'surprise' in store for the Muggleborn.

Unfortunately, Bart found looking at planets and stars every bit as boring as he did that time Lisa gave him a telescope, so Bart did the bare minimum in that class, again jotting down as little as he thought he could get away with. Daphne or Gemma could always give him pointers if he needed them later on, so why try harder?

He had more important things to do after all – like prepare for his upcoming duel with Draco.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Seven:**

How would Bart know about Idi Amin? Well, Lisa admitted that when it came to cruelty, Bart knew his history – and Idi Amin certainly was cruel. The rumours about Idi Amin being a cannibal were never properly verified, but Bart wouldn't care too much about that.

The reference to Lisa giving Bart a telescope, and Bart subsequently finding the universe boring, is from 'Bart of Darkness'.


	8. Book 1: Confrontations

**Chapter Eight**

Indeed, as Gemma and Bart had previously agreed, the boy was lazing on one of the sofas in the Slytherin Common Room at 8pm the very next day, waiting for Gemma to arrive and escort him to the correct room so he could begin preparing for the duel.

Just like clockwork, Gemma arrived at exactly 8pm and whisked Bart away with her.

"So what classroom are we going to?" Bart asked.

"It's on the seventh floor. I discovered it in my third year, when I was looking for a place where I could both practice existing spells and learn new spells at the same time. Power is strength in Slytherin, after all. In fact, I found it by sheer, outrageous good fortune. You see, I was walking past this space three consecutive times while thinking 'I need a place to learn new spells and practice existing ones' and, lo and behold, this door popped up.

When I opened it I discovered both a library that was full of books describing various charms, jinxes, hexes and curses, and also a wide open area with a soft matted floor, which I assumed was a duelling area. I was already one of the best duellists in my year, but after discovering that room I became one of the best in the _school."_

"Man, that sounds awesome!" Bart exclaimed.

"It is Bart. It might be a long walk, but I promise that it will be worth it", Gemma asserted, as Bart watched the various moving paintings with fascination. He did not remember seeing them at Ilvermorny and he was not sure why they had previously escaped his notice; maybe he was too preoccupied with adjusting to the hostility and intrigue within Slytherin. Now that he had adjusted somewhat by forming some alliances, he could observe his surroundings more.

"So what's happened since we last met up?" Gemma conversationally asked.

"Oh, nothing much", Bart quickly said, trying to prompt Gemma to change the subject.

Unfortunately for Bart, Gemma wasn't fooled by Bart's brush-off.

"Nothing much? Bart, please trust me with the truth."

"Well…Professor Quirrell was…caught out…by some of my questions. I asked him some questions about garlic and his turban that he didn't really like. Plus, in Potions, Professor Snape and our good friend Draco came down with a rather bad outbreak of boils. Draco also, um, _somehow_ found out that I intended to challenge him to a duel and he accepted, in front of the other first years", Bart explained, hoping that it would pacify her. Unfortunately, he was mistaken.

"Interesting. Snape and Malfoy mysteriously coming down with a bad outbreak of boils wouldn't have anything to do with _you_, would it?" Gemma asked pointedly, her expression growing stonier by the second.

_Oh crap_, Bart thought, but before he could do anything more Gemma twisted his ear and propped him up against the wall.

"Ow! Ow! You're tearing my ear off!" Bart hollered hysterically.

Upon hearing his cries, Gemma non-verbally silenced Bart and started lecturing him in a harsh whisper. "Bart! You can't attack teachers like that! You'll get yourself expelled! How can you expect to be a great wizard if you get yourself expelled in your first week like you did at Ilvermorny?

You're lucky that Dumbledore even let you study at Hogwarts in the first place! Things are obviously different in the Muggle world, but usually if you get expelled in the wizarding world, you don't get to go to another school!

Let me tell you something; if you get expelled this time you won't get another chance to study magic. You'll be done legally practising magic and you'll have to live like a Muggle in a town whose inhabitants chase after you with exorcism tongs when they're not trying to burn you alive! Is that what you want?_"_

Bart lowered his head in shame at Gemma's words and shook his head. He didn't like how Gemma could make him feel genuinely ashamed of himself; only his mother could consistently do that to him before he met Gemma.

However, Bart felt shame because he knew that Gemma was right. He wanted to be a great wizard just because of all the attention and glory he would receive and if he got himself expelled, that wouldn't be possible. He also _really _didn't relish being stuck in a town where the inhabitants despised or feared him.

Gemma was satisfied by Bart's contrition but warned him, _"_Bart, if you attack a teacher like that again…I might have to resort to harsher measures to make the message sink in. Do you understand me?"

When Bart heard Gemma utter the euphemism 'harsher measures', he pictured her subjecting him to searing gas pain or turning him into some monstrosity. After a brief shudder, he nodded his head in understanding before trying to get on the front foot by asking her a question.

"Anyway, did you give detention to those guys who attacked me?"

"Well, I tracked down some of them, including our mutual friends Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy, and subjected them to the most…_painful_…notification of a detention that they will ever receive. Hopefully they've recovered from the notification by now", Gemma said with relish, to which Bart chuckled evilly.

Gemma then released Bart and they reached the seventh floor. After Gemma did the needful, a door appeared and the pair entered a room which was split into two sections – a library and what was obviously a duelling area.

Bart was not exactly a voracious reader, but he nonetheless ran through the library and perused the shelves. Some books appeared to be standard Hogwarts-issue school books but there were others that contained what appeared to be very esoteric spells. Bart pulled out one which appeared to be hundreds of years old; it was titled _Buddhist Combat Magic: A Guide to the Wartime Practices of the Magical __Sōhei __and __Ikkō-ikki Communities by Charles Cornwell_.

Bart was instantly reminded of Lisa's Buddhist beliefs and imagined that her pacifistic sister's reaction to seeing this book would not betray any amusement.

However, before Bart could start perusing the book, Gemma placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry Bart, but we will just be learning standard spells for now. We can learn more advanced or specialised spells like these later", Gemma advised.

"Oh man, do we have to Gemma?" Bart whined.

"Yes we do. Standard charms, curses, hexes and jinxes are the fundamental spells which any good duellist has to learn before learning more advanced spells. Not simply because they're easier to learn, but also because more wizards know them, so you have to learn the counter-curse to them as well", Gemma explained.

"Fine", Bart groaned, before following Gemma to the duelling area. "Can I take these books with me afterwards?"

"No, they disappear out of your hands as soon as you leave the room."

"What, because 'magic'?" Bart sarcastically asked.

After Gemma sighed and uttered 'yes', they both walked into the centre of the duelling area before she set about teaching Bart the basic first-year defence spells: _Mucus ad Nauseam_, _Petrificus Totalus_,_ Flipendo,_ _Vermillious_, _Verdimillious_, _Lumos_ and _Fumos_.

An average wizard would expect to learn such spells over the course of a year, but Bart was certainly not an average wizard. Indeed, he already knew how to banish people without a wand, so doing so with a wand was elementary to Bart, not to mention more effective. Ultimately, he had mastered the first four charms both verbally and non-verbally by the end of the hour-long session. It was then that Gemma inspected his wand.

"Wow. I've never seen a wand like this before, Bart. It appears to be three wands fused together. Can you explain?"

"Well, Professor Dumbledore fused three different wands together and then shortened them using his wand to 10 inches. I can't remember what the wand woods are called, but it has a phoenix feather core. My Ilvermorny wand had a Thunderbird feather core and that old dude…Ollie-something…told me they were related", Bart explained before asking, "So what about your wand?"

_I _really_ need to talk with him about his language_, Gemma thought before showing Bart her wand. "It's an 11 inch, aspen wood wand with a dragon heartstring core. Ollivander thought that Aspen was the most suitable wand for me because he believed I was destined to become both an accomplished duellist and charms caster, and I think he was right about that. Actually, one of my ancestors, Gonville Farley, had an Aspen wand and was a member of an 18th-century duelling club that called itself The Silver Spears.

He also explained that witches who possess the Aspen wand owners are strong-minded, determined people who love quests. For example, I constantly set myself quests to not only learn new charms, curses, hexes, jinxes and abilities but also explore the castle", Gemma finished, not wishing to tell Bart about her determination to improve both her personal station and her family's, or her quest to mould Bart into a weapon she could use against her family's opponents.

As they walked back to the Slytherin Common Room, Gemma teased, _"_By the way Bart, a notice on the Slytherin Common Room says that flying lessons with the Gryffindors will be starting on Thursday. No doubt you're looking forward to getting on a broom again_._"

Bart shuddered at the idea as memories of him crashing into Headmaster Fontaine's caboose came to mind. _"_Can I just...sort of…skip that lesson?" Bart innocently asked.

"Not unless you want to land yourself in detention with Snape", Gemma sternly informed him, to which Bart slapped his head and uttered "D'oh!" as he wanted to avoid his menacing head of house as much as possible.

* * *

Time tends to speed up when something you dread is coming. Indeed, Bart found this was the case whenever he was preparing to sit an exam back at Springfield Elementary. Sure enough, Thursday came at warp speed. In that time, Bart had learnt quite a bit from Gemma's lessons about defence, but nothing from Quirrell's lessons, as merely seeing a non-antagonistic Bart reduced the turbaned teacher to a quivering wreck. He had mastered all first-year and second-year defence spells both verbally and non-verbally. He had also behaved himself well enough in the other classes to avert any confrontations with Daphne, Tracey, Gemma or any other students for the time being.

Unfortunately, he also had to endure Draco yammering on about how he had evaded Muggles in helicopters using his broomstick. Knowing that Gemma had already tracked down and punished all of Bart's attackers, Bart felt free to retort, _"_Cool story Dray-gun. Pictures, or it didn't happen." Draco's only response, to Bart's amusement, was to tell him that because he was a filthy Mudblood, Bart didn't deserve to see any pictures.

However, Draco wasn't the only one discussing Quidditch. Bart also overheard Daphne and Millicent discussing their experiences playing as a keeper and beater, respectively, while Gemma confided to Bart in one of their lessons that she was a useful chaser, but that the thuggish Marcus Flint believed that women did not fit his more physical vision of Quidditch.

Meanwhile, Gemma's screech owl had brought her some sweets which she shared with Bart, who constantly had Balthazar resting on and defecating down his shoulder. Much to Bart's irritation, he noticed that Draco also received sweets from an eagle owl that Balthazar eyed with scarcely concealed loathing. If Bart didn't need to maintain a semblance of house unity, he would have commanded Balthazar to attack Malfoy's owl. Instead, he observed a commotion at the Gryffindor table wherein Draco stole and then gave back a ball that Neville Longbottom received. While he was doing this, Gemma addressed him.

"Bart, why don't you get Balthazar to send a note to your family? They're probably worried about you."

_Well, Mum and Lisa probably are; not sure about Homer_, Bart thought before replying, _"_Yeah, sure, but I'm not much of a writer."

With that, he transfigured two knuts into an envelope and parchment respectively, and whipped out a Self-Inking Quill that Gemma gave him before writing the following:

_Mum, Homer & Lisa_

_I arrived safely at Hogwarts over a week ago. I've been sorted into Slytherin. I've already made some new friends. I hope everything's going OK in Springfield._

_Love,_

_Bart_

After placing the note in an envelope, he gave it to Balthazar, who flew out of the Great Hall.

"How does he even know where to go? I know he can understand English, but I didn't know he could read English? And how does he even get to my home town from here? He'd take forever, wouldn't he?" questioned Bart.

"Balthazar doesn't leave Britain, Bart. What happens is that he goes to the Owl Post Office, leaves the letter there and has an International Courier deliver the mail to the American Owl Post Office using a Portkey, which is basically an object that can transport people from one area to another. The American Owl Post Office would then deliver the owl to your house", Gemma explained.

"What if the person receiving the mail tries to attack the owl? For example, my father might panic and blast the owl with his shotgun – which is kind of like a long, two-barrelled wand that shoots…projectiles…instead of spells", Bart clarified after seeing Gemma's befuddled expression.

Gemma looked quite disturbed by Bart's explanation – _C__ould Bart have been chased around by someone holding one of those monstrous Muggle contraptions as well?_ thought Gemma worriedly, but sought to comfort him by replying, _"_Bart, owls have to deliver letters and packages to mentally disturbed and paranoid wizards quite often, so their handlers teach them how to dodge incoming spells. Magical owls are attuned enough to magic to find the recipient of a letter without an address, but they're also taught to read and understand basic English by their handlers."

* * *

Soon enough, Bart found himself in front of an ancient broomstick that was clearly far older than 'Mandy' was. He was unhappily listening to their teacher, Madam Hooch, exhorting them to stick their right hand over their brooms and yell "UP!" Bart, however, bristled at this command.

_Screw you, Madam _Cooch_; I'm not going to risk getting myself expelled over a god damn broomstick again_, he thought.

True to his word, he uttered "up" with about as much enthusiasm as he would have had visiting a children's cemetery, all the while banishing the broom down as far as he could. Maybe he could even get the broom to bury itself six feet under by the end of the lesson?

However, to further Bart's irritation, Madam Hooch insisted on showing them how to mount their brooms.

_Lady, I already know how to mount my broom; I got expelled over it_, thought Bart in annoyance, which was amplified when Hooch insisted that Bart was gripping the broom incorrectly. That said, Bart was consoled by the knowledge that Draco had been guilty of the same thing.

_Gee Gay-bo, you're meant to be this awesome flyer but you can't even properly hold a broom?_

Unfortunately, it just got worse from there when Madam Hooch began instructing them how to fly off the ground. Luckily Bart, ever the quick thinker, had devised a plan to avoid this.

_Ok Bart, as soon as everyone starts flying off, vanish your broom then disappear. None of these saps will know a thing_.

Before Bart could execute his plan, Neville thoroughly embarrassed himself by shooting many feet off the ground before slipping off his broom and landing face-first, after which Madam Hooch escorted him to the hospital wing.

Upon witnessing this scene, Bart winced at the thought of what might have happened had Neville taken charge in that Potions lesson. However, he was thrust from his thoughts by the sound of Draco and the other Slytherins laughing at Neville's misfortune, albeit some more half-heartedly than others.

"Come on Simpson, didn't you find that great fat lump falling on his face like a common Muggle tramp funny? Oh wait, you're a Mudblood, so of course you wouldn't find that funny!" Draco jibed, once again showing his contempt for both Bart and the unspoken rule of Slytherin – to demonstrate house unity in front of other houses.

Many of the Gryffindors and Slytherins gasped in shock upon hearing Draco direct the word 'mudblood' towards Bart yet again, with Harry fixing Draco with a cold stare.

Bart, for his part, merely craned his neck towards Draco and stared down the bigoted nuisance.

"Draco, Slytherins show unity in front of other houses", Bart tetchily reminded him, trying to heed Daphne and Gemma's advice to not do something that could land him in serious trouble.

"Yeah, but Mudbloods can never be real Slytherins, so I don't need to extend that courtesy to _you_", Draco retorted.

"You won't be saying that after our little duel", Bart coldly sniped back. At this, many of the Gryffindors whispered among themselves excitedly while Harry and Ron smirked.

Draco blanched at this before picking up Neville's ball, which was apparently called a Remembrall. Bart was about to humiliate his blond housemate over flouting the aforementioned unspoken role, namely by summoning the ball from his hand, before Harry stepped in. After a short exchange on the ground, they flew up into the air and exchanged more verbals.

Bart was watching them avidly, waiting for his chance to summon the Remembrall from Draco's hand. He was not disappointed, for Draco chose to throw the ball into the air. With imperceptible pace, Bart discreetly pointed his palm towards the ball and it flew straight into his hand. In a flash, he was out of sight as he headed towards the hospital wing.

Back up in the air, Draco and Harry were gaping in the direction of where the ball just was.

"W…where did the ball go?" Draco bemusedly asked. It was then that an epiphany fell on Draco like a ton of bricks as he hissed, _"_Simpson!"

"What?" Harry sharply asked as he turned towards his _bête noire_.

"Simpson! Simpson took that Remembrall!" Draco bawled.

"Bart took the Remembrall? How is that possible?" Harry asked, thoroughly nonplussed.

"You don't know what he can do! He can lift a feather without even lifting his arm! He can transfigure a chair into a _bloody dog_, for Merlin's sake!" Draco hysterically howled, as if having to acknowledge Bart's talents was sending him into a state of utterly irreversible derangement.

For his part, Harry's jaw dropped upon hearing these revelations. _Wow. Bart really is gifted_, he thought, thinking back to what Bart had told him at Madam Malkin's.

However, when Draco and Harry flew back down to the crowd, they discovered that Bart had vanished without a trace. However, he wasn't the only one…

* * *

Bart was walking down the hall, with his Disillusionment Charm allowing him to pass nearby students and teachers unmolested. All the other students had seemed too distracted by Draco and Harry's tête-à-tête to actually notice him vanishing and so he assumed that he had gotten away from the Quidditch grounds undetected.

_Hmmm...should I give Neville the ball or should I keep it for myself? _Bart mused.

Before he could decide, however, something collided into his side with breakneck force and rammed him up against a wall before uttering "Finite Incantatem!_" _Much to Bart's displeasure, he discovered in a trice that he was now very much visible to the bushy-haired figure in front of him, whose brown eyes were burning with fury.

"Thought you could just sneak away, did you, Bart?" Hermione hissed.

"How did you figure out that I was cloaking myself?" Bart asked in wonderment.

"I saw you do it in Potions, you idiot. Besides, the charm doesn't make you invisible; it just makes you take on the texture and colour of your surroundings. All I had to do was watch the air move and I could figure out where you were.

I was able to intercept you because I assumed that you were going to the hospital wing to give Neville his Remembrall. So now you can give it to me", Hermione smugly finished.

"Gee, thanks for answering a question I never asked in the first place", Bart retorted, referring to Hermione's explanation of how she had intercepted him.

Her eyes flashed as her temper, already rising as a result of Bart's misbehaviour, finally broke. She then rewarded Bart's snipe with a slap which cracked across the hall like a gunshot.

"You know, I've been meaning to have words with you, Bart. I saw how you behaved in Potions – you embarrassed Professor Snape and then caused that accident involving him and Draco Malfoy out of spite. Only Harry and you had a reason to do that, and I'm pretty sure I saw the porcupine quill come from your area, not Harry's.

You could have injured half the class! You could have gotten yourself expelled! Do you think about the consequences of your actions? Do you think about others? Do you even care about your own safety? Or do you just do whatever you feel like in the heat of the moment? Is that why you apparently have an upcoming duel with Malfoy?" Hermione ranted.

_Great, _more _lecturing from the opposite sex about what a bad boy I've been_. _Well, it's time to fight fire with fire._

"Shut up, Lisa", came Bart's lengthy reply. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise before Bart felt yet another hard slap across his face.

"The name's _Hermione_ and you'd do well to remember that, Bart!" Hermione spat.

"Why do you care what I do anyway, brainiac? You're a Gryffindor and I'm a Slytherin", Bart snarled, uttering the last sentence as if it was the most obvious observation made in human history. Frankly, this girl was reminding him appallingly of Lisa at her most insufferable and he _never _wanted to be around Lisa when she was behaving like that.

Hermione responded to Bart's words with exasperation, but had nonetheless calmed down somewhat. _"_Several reasons, actually. Firstly, as I've just mentioned, you're not only breaking rules and insulting teachers, but your behaviour is also endangering other students. Secondly, I don't like seeing people squander their talent through laziness, recklessness or stupidity.

Thirdly, I think you…are a nice person deep down, Bart. You are the only Slytherin I've met who has been nice to Neville, so that's why I knew that you were going to return his Remembrall to him. That's a nice thing of you to do Bart, so I would feel a little sad if you got yourself expelled."

That was the very _last _sentiment that Bart was expecting the typically self-righteous, judgemental Hermione to express. Indeed, the usually smooth-talking Bart was so struck by his surprise that he simply stared at her with wide eyes for a moment, before muttering, _"_Fine then, take Neville's stupid Remembrall", giving her the Remembrall before cloaking himself.

"Thank you, Bart", Hermione softly replied as he vanished.

* * *

Unfortunately, Bart's troubles did not end with Hermione confronting him. As he proceeded towards the Slytherin Common Room, a most unwelcome presence made himself known; Professor Snape, staring down at Bart with an obvious thirst to avenge the very painful humiliation that Bart subjected him to in front of his entire Potions class.

"Imagine seeing _you_ down here, Simpson", Snape hissed venomously.

"Yes, it's a pleasure to see you too, Professor Snape. I hope that you've been well?" Bart enquired unctuously, hoping to placate the man. Unfortunately, the professor was not to be placated.

"Yes, I have been in _most_ good cheer since our lesson last Friday, Simpson", he sneered sarcastically. "Such good cheer in fact, that I have been absolutely _dying_ to relive the events of that lesson with you ever since. In particular, when Malfoy and I came down with a rather unfortunate outbreak of boils."

"Yes. Rather ghastly business, that", Bart noted, with a voice veritably _drenched _in oil.

"A _most_ ghastly business indeed, Mr. Simpson. Now you are going to tell me what you know about it", Professor Snape demanded.

A shiver ran down Bart's spine upon hearing this demand. Right now, Professor Snape was most certainly reminding him of Sideshow Bob at his most murderous. Nonetheless, Bart affected his most nonchalant expression when he replied, without making eye contact, _"_Well, I saw Draco and you coming down with some painful looking boils when Draco's potion mysteriously spilled over. That's what I saw, so that's what I know."

Professor Snape's eyes exuded rage at Bart's evasive answer. In a flash, he grabbed Bart and forced him to stare into his cold, unyielding black eyes.

Bart momentarily panicked before remembering that he could emphasise the memory, or vision, that he wanted his head of house to see, much like he did when Gemma was examining his memories. To that end, he conjured up the vilest vision he could think of; Homer strip-teasing in front of the Simpsons' abode.

The menacing professor must have seen that memory too, for he instantaneously released Bart when they made eye contact. He then eyed him shrewdly, his earlier suspicions having been confirmed by Bart's vomit-inducing vision.

_Hmmm…so he _does _know that I'm a Legilimens. That's why he's been avoiding eye contact with me every time we've been in close quarters._

_No first-year Muggleborn should even _know_ about Legilimency though, must less resist it in such a…novel manner. Who could have told him? It was probably Miss Farley._

_Yes, it would _have _to be Miss Farley. Simpson has always sat with her during meals in the Great Hall, rather with the rest of the first-years. It is most unusual for a Prefect and a first-year to sit together, so she must be benefiting in some way. Yes, Miss Farley _must_ be manipulating Simpson's talents for her own benefit. She's also one of the best witches in the school, so she would likely know about Legilimency and Occlumency. A most interesting development…I will have to keep Dumbledore abreast of this development, since he asked me to monitor Simpson_.

After finishing his own internal monologue, he eyeballed Bart and uttered, _"_Detention for insubordination, Simpson. My office, 8pm tonight. You will be cleaning cauldrons _without_ magic", before stalking away whence he came.

Bart breathed profusely before thinking, _that could have been worse. That overgrown bat could have _expelled _me. Thank god Gemma showed me that technique. Ok Bart, you've been through a million detentions; this one can't be any worse._

* * *

Bart quickly realised that he was wrong. Although he was fascinated by how Professor Snape's office resembled a cross between a Batcave and a mad scientist's lab, what with the gloominess and dissected animals in jars, the task of brushing cauldrons that emitted any variety of foul odours under the hateful gaze of Professor Snape turned out to be far less pleasant than any detention that he had ever endured under Edna Krabappel or Principal Skinner.

It was so unpleasant, in fact, that when Bart left, he quickly headed to the duelling arena and unleased his pent-up frustration against his head of house by firing off the spells that Gemma had taught him. The different colours of the arcing spells created a truly delightful display that reminded Bart strongly of ground-borne fireworks.

Soon enough, Bart grew weary of that light show and so trooped down towards the dungeons, lit wand in hand. When he reached the third floor, however, he heard some running footsteps near what appeared to be the nearby Charms classroom.

_What's going on? What's with the running?_ Bart thought to himself before suddenly recalling Professor Dumbledore's plea to stay away from the third-door corridor on the right-hand side, and Harry's laughter in response. Bart then realised that this was not only his opportunity to check out what was there, but that Harry might also be doing the exact same thing at this very moment.

Not thinking any further, he ran towards the footsteps and was confronted by four students pointing their wands at him: Harry, Ron, Hermione and a shaking Neville. Harry was the first to recognise the interloper.

"Bart?" Harry asked in surprise, to which the others gasped.

"Hey Harry; come to check out what's in that third-floor corridor on the right-hand side?"

Before Harry could answer him, a black-haired, black-eyed ghost in a clown outfit burst in from a nearby classroom.

_This must be Peeves_, Bart thought. _Better think quickly…_

"Hey Peeves, do you enjoy moving around the castle at midnight too?" Bart rhetorically asked.

"Welly welly welly! If it isn't impson blimpson gimpson Simpson, the sly slithery Slytherin! Has arty farty Barty come to party with Peeves?" Peeves jested.

"I'll party with you all night, Peeves", Bart responded with feigned earnest, _"_but first you will have to EAT MY SHORTS!" the boy bellowed as he cast a non-verbal _Fumos_ charm in front of the poltergeist before yelling _"_Follow me!" to the other four, as they ran to the end of the corridor and through a door that Bart had just unlocked.

After hearing Filch futilely ask Peeves where the intruders had gone, Bart turned around and, with a thrill of terror, realised _exactly_ where they were and why Professor Dumbledore had deemed this particular corridor forbidden. There was a dog staring hungrily at them that appeared to come straight out of Greek mythology, with its three heads and indeed, three of everything that you would expect to see on a regular dog, including three times the viciousness.

Bart, imitating Curly from The Three Stooges, grabbed onto Harry's robe and went _"_NANG NANG NANG!" in panic.

"What is –" Harry began to ask until he himself saw the beast. His eyes widened into saucers before they all rushed out of the room, not stopping until there was a floor between themselves and the canine monstrosity. When they had calmed down, Hermione rounded on Bart.

"Weren't you listening to anything I said earlier, Bart? Do you _want_ to die? Or do you just enjoy thumbing your nose up at teachers?" Hermione angrily asked.

"Hey, I'm bad to the boooooone, baby", Bart smoothly remarked. Upon hearing that, Hermione made to slap him before being restrained by the other three boys.

"Oh, you are such a -" Hermione began before Harry interrupted her.

"Wait, there was a trap door underneath the dog. It was obviously guarding something – something very important and valuable", Harry noted as he drifted off into thought.

Bart's eyes widened at this, wondering what it was. Various images came to mind, including gold, a nuclear weapon or perhaps racy compromising material involving Professor Dumbledore.

"Do you know what it's guarding?"

Ron, still not entirely trusting Bart, made to stop Harry from answering him but the raven-haired boy waved him away as he concisely responded, _"_It's a package from Vault 713 at Gringotts."

By this time, Hermione had lost her patience. _"_I don't care WHAT it is! Harry, Ron, Neville, we're all going back to Gryffindor Tower! Bart, go back to the dungeons!"

_Bitch, bitch, bitch_, Bart thought. However, he didn't wish to antagonise Hermione any further so he nonetheless complied, beginning a long trek back to his dormitory. Upon entering it, he fell onto his bed and went out like a light, feeling thoroughly exhausted after a day of confrontations.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Eight:**

Note that just because Bart did not remember seeing the moving paintings at Ilvermorny does not mean that they were not there.

Yes, the Sōhei and Ikkō-ikki did exist in Japan many centuries ago. No, I'm not trying to portray Buddhism as being a uniquely violent religion. I referenced Buddhism, instead of Zoroastrianism or something, because Lisa is a Buddhist.

Gonville Farley was named after Gonville Bromhead, from the legendary 1964 British film _Zulu_.

I gave Gemma an Aspen wand partially to distinguish her from canon characters, none of whom use this wand. Dragon heartstring cores also produce the most magical power and Gemma is a very powerful witch for her age.

The Silver Spears are cited in _Pottermore_.

The explanation of the International Wizarding World's post system and the ability of owls to read/dodge spells is fanon; it's not been clarified in canon to my knowledge.

After doing some reading on the subject, I've made some formatting changes at the request of a reviewer. Speech is no longer italicised (except where emphasis is needed), but inner thoughts still are, because apparently that's acceptable.


	9. Book 1: Draco and Dumbledore

**Chapter Nine**

The evening after, Professor Snape strode into Headmaster Dumbledore's office, cloak billowing behind him.

"Albus", the cloaked man began, _"_we need to discuss Simpson_._"

"Bartholomew Simpson?" the older wizard questioned as he swirled around to face Professor Snape, having previously been in a state of deep contemplation. _"_I hope he hasn't been causing too much trouble?"

"Regrettably Albus, he has been even more arrogant and troublesome than Harry Potter", Snape snarled. _"_He has a smarter mouth than Potter and I strongly suspect that he was behind an incident in Potions, wherein Draco Malfoy and I suffered an outbreak of boils."

The headmaster chortled lightly at this, but then admitted, _"_His name is legend among the wizarding teaching community for a reason, Severus. Is that all you wanted to discuss? Minerva and Quirinus have expressed similar concerns about his behaviour, but in my opinion the young man has done nothing to deserve any punishment beyond a detention."

The black-clad man scowled at the mention of Professor Quirrell, but added, _"_No. I have reason to believe that one of my house's prefects, Gemma Farley, has been manipulating him for her own ends."

At this, the wizened wizard's eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere as he asked, _"_Why do you believe that to be the case, Severus?"

"I have seen Farley and Simpson sitting together during feasts in the Great Hall. She has even shared _chocolate_ with the boy. When was the last time a Slytherin prefect and a first-year sat together? Slytherins care about image and reputation, and she would have tarnished hers by associating so obviously with a first-year, particularly a Muggleborn first year.

In addition, Simpson appears to know that I'm a Legilimens. He has been assiduously avoiding eye contact with me since we met, plus he blocked a Legilimency attack from me using the most disturbing image I hope to never see again."

The aged mage chortled. "Severus, do you mean to tell me that a first-year Muggleborn _blocked_ your Legilimency attack?"

"Albus, I did not want to spend any more time in a mind so twisted that it could conjure such an image!" the professor responded, scowling his life away.

"No doubt, Severus", the headmaster replied indulgently. "Now please continue."

"Well, I think that we would both agree that a Muggleborn first-year should have no idea that Legilimency even _exists_, much less block an attack by a Legilimens.

My theory is that Miss Farley informed Simpson that we are Legilimens, and that she has been teaching him various spells. In return, I expect that she will have Simpson help carry out her dirty work, including disposing of or subjugating threats to her family", Professor Snape finished, having previously scowled at Headmaster Dumbledore chuckling at the manner in which Bart had repelled the cloaked professor's Legilimens attack.

However, the ageing headmaster was most certainly _not _laughing after Professor Snape finished outlining his concerns. Instead, he pondered the younger wizard's words thoughtfully, and with some concern.

In Headmaster Dumbledore's judgement, Bart was the most gifted wizard to enrol into Hogwarts since Tom Riddle himself. Unfortunately, he appeared to be almost as troubled as Riddle was. He not only apparently had no friends in his home town, but his behavioural record was terrible, he had been persecuted by his fellow townspeople, and he had a father who impressed Professor Dumbledore as being clueless at best. He also had Riddle's penchant for manipulation.

Allowing somebody with Bart's history and psychological makeup to be manipulated by a third party for potentially dubious ends would not only damage the headmaster's interests, but would also potentially seriously destabilise wizarding Britain, if not the entire wizarding world. A man in Professor Dumbledore's esteemed position could _not_ let that happen.

Speaking of dubious ends, he had never been entirely sure where the Farley family stood in terms of allegiances. To be sure, there was no evidence that they were blood supremacists, and they had assisted the headmaster's Order of the Phoenix during the last war. Additionally, it was never definitively proven that they had aided Voldemort, hence why they had never been prosecuted despite Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, pushing for their prosecution.

On the other hand, he had known Jake and Bella Farley when they were in Hogwarts. Both were Slytherins and indeed, they were not unlike a previous Slytherin Head of House, Horace Slughorn, in that both were driven and ambitious individuals who were willing to go to great lengths to further their station. They not only exchanged favours with teachers and fellow students, but also manipulated and schmoozed them into giving the couple favourable treatment relative to other students, alongside introducing them to important people within wizarding Britain so they could try to advance their ambitions.

It would therefore not have surprised the geriatric wizard if the Farleys had indeed exchanged favours with Voldemort during the last war; in exchange for remaining neutral, they would need to have provided the snake-faced sorcerer with something valuable. What that something might have been, Dumbledore was unsure of. Maybe, perchance, information on the Order of the Phoenix? Perhaps even potions ingredients from their apothecary? Upon pondering this, he resolved to keep a closer watch on the misbehaving male mage, lest he be manipulated into serving Voldemort's interests.

"Severus, please keep an eye on young Bart and Miss Farley. If they engage in behaviour that you consider to be out of the ordinary for whatever reason, please let me know. I will summon Bart to my office to try and determine the exact nature of his relationship with Miss Farley. If I consider this relationship to not be in his or our best interests, I will attempt to persuade him to form alternative alliances", the headmaster advised.

Upon hearing this, the Potions Master gave the wizened sorcerer a curt nod before turning on his heel and striding out of the office.

* * *

At that very moment, in a case of synchronicity, Bart and Gemma were in _that _duelling arena, practising third-year defence spells. Bart had finished mastering the _Glacius _and _Orbis _jinxes both verbally and non-verbally, but he noticed that the third-year spells were somewhat trickier for him to master than the first and second-year spells. Indeed, he still hadn't quite mastered the _Ventus _and _Relashio _jinxes.

It was then that he understood why Gemma would not allow him to learn spells from that tome titled _Buddhist Combat Magic_ – the spells in that book were potentially so advanced that even a magical prodigy like Bart may not have been able to cast them in time for his imminent duel with Draco, much less master them. Nonetheless, Bart thought that he owed himself to try and do so after the duel. After all, what was he if not a risk taker?

With that thought on his mind, he asked Gemma, "Gemma, how long did it take for you to master the spells in those old, ancient books?"

Gemma gave him a weary look and replied, "Bart, I'm not V-Voldemort. I'm not even _you_. I might be one of the best witches in the school, but I took days to master third-year spells where you've taken hours. How many of those spells do you think I've been able to fully master, with all of the other things I've had to do and study over the years?"

Bart took her point, but for some reason this increased his drive to learn the spells within the book. In his mind's eye, he pictured himself duelling Lisa and yelling "Now embrace the power of da Buddha!" before firing a Buddha-shaped curse towards her. He thought that the 'ironing' of doing that to a committed Buddhist would be delicious.

With that happy thought in mind, Bart happily concluded his session with Gemma and ventured down to the dungeons for yet another hay-hitting session.

* * *

Just as time tends to speed up when you're dreading the coming of a future event, time slows down inexorably when you're awaiting an event with arms wide open. Such was the case for Bart. He spent much of his Saturday lazing on his bed and revising the shield charms that he had been refining with Gemma, but he had also endured a session with Daphne and Tracey, who taught him another spell, _Tarantallegra_.

Bart remembered how bemused he was upon hearing the spell name, as he asked Daphne and Tracey, _"_Why can't these wizards come up with simpler names for these spells? Are they _trying _to make them harder to learn? Or do they just want their spells to sound as fancy as possible? Why can't you just say _Dancing Spell_? I mean, that'd be so much easier to remember. Plus, it's actually in English."

Daphne looked at Bart and deadpanned, "Because this spell wasn't invented by an English speaker, Bart", as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But why couldn't an English speaker invent a spell called 'Dancing Spell' and have it do the same thing?" Bart querulously asked.

Daphne groaned in exasperation and replied, "Bart, wizards can't just flick their fingers and invent spells whenever they feel like it. To use the spell properly, never mind teach it to others, you have to both invent _and _refine the spell. You not only have to figure out how to pronounce the spell, but you also have to move your wand correctly when casting it. It's much easier to just use an existing spell rather than invent one, especially with a curse that is easy to learn, like _Tarantallegra_."

"Gee, you want to explain that in English, Daphne?" Bart sarcastically remarked, which prompted both Tracey and her to chase Bart out of the classroom, firing spells all the while.

* * *

Soon enough, Bart was able to put that session out of mind, as the big day, Sunday, had finally arrived. At 11:30am, Bart and Gemma trooped down to the Slytherin Duelling Dungeon. On the way, Gemma tried to encourage Bart.

"So Bart, are you ready to humiliate Draco?" Gemma asked with a smirk.

"Gemma, with what you've taught me, I feel like I could take on a _werewolf _and win", Bart cockily responded. After hearing that, Gemma shot him a sharp look.

"Don't get cocky, Bart. Draco might be an arrogant little toerag, but he's still his father's son. Trust me, the Malfoys wouldn't know what fair play was if it crawled up their buttocks and died. He probably knows that he can't beat you in a fair fight, so he'll almost certainly resort to dirty tricks to even things up", she admonished.

"Gemma, to be _Bartesque _is to be devious and underhanded – and I'm _Bartesque _to the bone, baby", Bart responded with a smug, sleazy smirk. "A spoilt little bitch like Dragon-poo can't beat me in the department."

Gemma simply rolled her eyes at Bart's remarks as they reached the Duelling Dungeon. It was then that Bart surveyed the magnificent yet chilling sight in front of him – the duelling area seemed to comprise two massive stone snakes, with the duel apparently designed to be contested on top of said snakes.

The eerie atmosphere was heightened by the crowd of Slytherins surrounding the edge of the area. Within the crowd, he saw Daphne and Tracey, who both gave him a small smile in support, having apparently forgiven Bart for his comments the previous day. Upon reaching the edge of the arena, Gemma patted him on the back and whispered, "Good luck, Bart", before taking her position in front of the crowd. Bart winked at her before turning his thoughts to the arena.

_Man, I love Slytherin house_, Bart thought. _It's full of cool, creepy stuff like this. Speaking of creepy sights…_, he thought as his blond housemate and rival arrogantly strode up to the other end of the platform, with his two goons and 'bob-girl' beside him. At this point, some members of the crowd started cheering. Not wanting Draco to bathe in the attention, Bart decided to needle him a tad.

"Hey Die-now, I know that you're a crappier wizard than I am, but we've already agreed that we're not allowed seconds, let alone thirds or fourths", Bart sarcastically noted.

"They're here for moral support. Because I have actual friends, I can call on their moral support. You don't have any real friends, so you can't", Draco sniped.

"Geez, how much did _you_ pay to have 'actual friends'? Must have been half of what your family has", Bart snarked. Sighting the scowl on Draco's face, Bart went in for the kill by finishing with, "Hopefully your bought-and-paid-for friends can cheer you up after I kick your butt. I mean, you're such a miserable little bitch that it'll be really hard for them, but hopefully they're up to it."

"We'll see about that, Mudblood scum!" Draco hissed furiously.

Bart smirked. He had hoped to throw Draco off-balance through some judicious use of trash talk, and he had apparently succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Maybe he could now lure Draco into a trap…

"Hey Dra-clod, I'll make you a deal. I'll give you three tries to hit me with everything you've got. If you fail to win, then I'll hit you with everything I have. You won't stand a chance", Bart challenged.

The crowd, including Gemma, widened their eyes and gasped at Bart's cockiness. For his part, Draco smirked, thinking that he had free reign to defeat Bart before he got going.

"Ok Simpson. I'll only need the one try though", Draco sneered.

_Bart, you'd bloody well better know what you are doing_, Gemma irritably thought.

It was at this time, on the stroke of midday, that Professor Snape entered the centre of the ring and glared at Bart before ordering, "Combatants, raise your wands!"

When Bart and Draco did so, the head of house stated, "You may begin!"

Draco hollered, "_Locomotor Mortis!_" shooting a familiar-looking purple curse in Bart's direction. Rolling his eyes contemptuously, Bart simply muttered, "_Protego!_" which sent the curse speeding back in Draco's direction so quickly that he barely had time to dodge.

At this, Draco's supporters went silent while some in the crowd, including Gemma, sniggered. It was becoming clear to even the most prejudiced Slytherins that Bart was a far more talented wizard than the complacent, conceited Draco.

Bart decided to press home his advantage by taunting Draco. "Gee Mal-content, wouldn't shooting a spell I hadn't seen before have been a better idea?"

Infuriated by Bart's cockiness, a red-faced Draco scrambled onto his feet and shouted, "_Everte Statum!_"

_That's one I haven't seen before_, Bart dryly thought, but nevertheless deftly dodged it, like he had so many punches and hexes over the years.

"Ok Dark-ho. That's two strikes. I'll give you one more; then it'll be strike three. Game o - "

Draco interrupted Bart's monologue by yelling, "_Serpensortia!_" and launching a large snake in Bart's direction.

Most wizards would have been scared shitless of a snake, but not Bart, who not only had prior experience dealing with snakes, but unbeknownst to Draco, was incredibly adept at banishing things towards his enemies.

Proving this point in front of the entire crowd, he quickly banished the snake towards Draco, who panicked and yelled, "_Vipera evanesca!_"

Draco had successfully vanished the snake, but fell on his knees in exhaustion. As he did so, he peered up, only to see Bart smirking.

Frankly, Draco had never felt so bereft of hope in his life. It had become obvious that Bart was just toying with him, waiting for Draco to wear himself down before he applied the finishing touches. As much as it killed him to admit it, he had to concede that this particular Muggleborn was simply too skilled a wizard for Draco to handle.

However, maybe he could knock Bart down with a surprise fourth curse before he finally collapsed. He smirked to himself as he thought, _Yes, I'll surprise the wretched Mudblood with another curse. He won't be expecting me to throw a fourth curse at him. I can finish him before he finishes me._

Unfortunately, he was dealing with the Duke of Deviousness himself, Bart Simpson. Realising what he was planning, Bart quickly disarmed Draco and yelled in quick unison, just to add to the theatre of the occasion, "_Petrificus Totalus! Glacius! Flipendo!_" simultaneously paralysing, freezing and knocking Draco out of the arena.

"Well that was boring. Professor Snape, I think Draco just forfeited", Bart deadpanned as his head of house ran to Draco, after which Bart left the ring. Upon doing so, he extravagantly bowed to the crowd, after which he gauged their reactions. Gemma, Tracey and Daphne smiled, Theo, Millicent and Rachel nodded, and Zabini smirked, but most of the rest were struck by silence, whereas a few seemed outright aggrieved by Bart's victory.

Gemma then turned to the crowd and ordered, "Come on! Everybody out!" before having Bart stand aside as the crowd shuffled out. They still might not have _liked _Bart, but they could no longer disrespect his ability. For Bart, that was enough for the time being.

Finally, Professor Snape and Draco made to leave the chamber. Draco apparently couldn't even bring himself to make eye contact with Bart. Bart smirked at this, thinking, _well, the little S.O.B should be off my back for a little bit_.

Conversely, the professor made sure to look at Bart and Gemma before stating, "Miss Farley, please take Malfoy and follow the rest of the students to ensure order", to which she reluctantly complied. After they were gone, the cloaked man then turned to Bart and with characteristic contempt stated, "Simpson, Professor Dumbledore wants you to see him in his office, located in the Headmaster's Tower. The password to enter is 'Sherbet Lemon'. Do not delay." He then swept from the dungeon, leaving Bart alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Bart's head was spinning as he proceeded to the headmaster's office. Despite trusting Gemma more than anybody else in the wizarding world, he still had trouble reconciling the kindly headmaster that he had encountered with the Machiavellian megalomaniac of Gemma's description.

_What if Gemma's right, though? What should I do? _Bart frantically thought as he wondered what Headmaster Dumbledore wished to discuss with him. Was it his ongoing feud with his head of house? His behaviour towards teachers? Or maybe his relationship with other students?

_Ok Bart, here's the plan. I'll just say as little as possible and avoid making eye contact. If I have to, I'll pull a Ralph. That_ _should end the meeting_ _pretty quickly_, Bart thought as he smirked, picturing the reaction on the headmaster's face when he started spouting random _non sequiturs_.

"Sherbet Lemon", he uttered in front of the Headmaster's office door. The door opened and he gambolled on in.

Sure enough, Headmaster Dumbledore greeted him with a small smile and his trademark twinkling of the eyes. _His eyes always do that_, Bart thought in vexation.

"Ah, young Bart. I'm most glad to have the pleasure of your company on this fine day", Dumbledore affably greeted. "Would you like a Lemon Drop?", the kindly headmaster offered.

_I'd better not take it; if Gemma's right about him, he's probably drugged it_, Bart thought. "No, thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore", Bart unctuously replied.

"Please feel free to reconsider. Now, please take a seat. I would simply like to ask you a few questions." After Bart sat, the Headmaster began, "Now, how are you finding Hogwarts?"

"Well, I'm finding it to be a castle", replied Bart as he nonchalantly reeled off a technically correct but utterly useless 'Mathematician's Answer'.

"No doubt, Bart. That is because it is indeed a castle", the headmaster replied with typical indulgence. "However, with respect, that is not what I meant. Are you, for example, making friends within your house?"

"Yes, I am making friends within my house", Bart replied in an apathetic monotone.

With a sigh, Dumbledore thought, _well, it looks like he won't volunteer information about his friendships freely. I may have to prompt him a little._

"Do these friends include Miss Gemma Farley?"

_Oh crap. I'll have to try and stall him. _"Whatever gave you _that_ idea?" Bart innocently asked.

"Well, it's not escaped my notice that you two have sat together during meals in the Great Hall."

Bart scowled when he heard this. _So, Gemma _was _right. He _has _been spying on me_, he thought as he stared at the headmaster's desk for an indeterminate period of time. Eventually, Headmaster Dumbledore broke the silence.

"I see that you're quite taken by my desk, Bart."

"Oh yes, I am", Bart lied. "You see, I'm absolutely _fascinated_ by wood, and this particular desk seems to be made out of mahogany."

"Actually Bart, it's made out of rosewood", the headmaster corrected.

_Oh crap. _"Yes, yes, that's what I meant to say. Rosewood, yes", Bart stumbled.

"Yes, I have no doubt that you simply made an honest mistake", the professor indulgently reassured the boy. "So…what has your friendship with Miss Farley been like?"

"Oh, we've just been doing things that friends do", Bart vaguely responded.

"Such as?"

"Oh you know, talking to each other."

"About what?"

"Stuff."

Upon hearing this, the wizened Headmaster sighed. _Clearly Bart is not going to be forthcoming_, he thought as he pondered what to do. Bart clearly knew that he was a Legilimens and so probing his mind via direct eye contact was out of the question.

Dumbledore being Dumbledore, he of course did not need to make eye contact to probe into Bart's mind, but the boy clearly developed at least a rudimentary understanding of Occlumency, so he did not know exactly how much he could extract from him using Legilimency. That, and Legilimency in his opinion was less effective when you could not make direct eye contact with the target - hence why he had asked to do so when exploring Bart's mind at Ollivander's. Plus, if Bart detected any incoming Legilimency attack that was made without his knowledge, it would destroy his trust in the old wizard. Not to mention that a powerful Legilimency attack, which he had never used on Bart, can literally drive even adults insane – he shuddered at the thought of what one might do to a child.

Upon some reflection, the headmaster decided that he would perform a Legilimency attack, but that it would be as subtle as possible. He may not have been able to extract that many memories that way, but Bart would be less likely to detect it, plus the ageing mage would at least develop some idea as to what his relationship with Miss Farley was like.

_Forgive me, young Bart_, he thought as he wandlessly conducted the attack.

As he expected, he only saw brief flashes, but what he saw was of great interest. Gemma and Bart sitting together on the train. Gemma inviting Bart to sit with her at the opening feast. Gemma sitting next to Bart in the hospital wing. Gemma and Bart in the Hogwarts kitchens. Gemma pointing her wand at Bart. Gemma teaching Bart spells.

_Very interesting. They clearly enjoy a close relationship. Severus and I will need to discuss this before I can determine whether or not this relationship is in Bart's or our best interests_, Dumbledore thought. Not wanting to probe any further and risk either damaging Bart's mind or being discovered, Dumbledore finished by replying, "Very well, Bart. Thank you for attending this meeting. You may go."

"W-what, really?" Bart spluttered, taken aback.

"Yes, Bart", Headmaster Dumbledore pleasantly responded.

Shrugging his shoulders, Bart got up and looked at the bird resting near Dumbledore for the first time.

"He's a phoenix, Bart. He is related to the thunderbird. His name is Fawkes. You might recall that your wand has a phoenix feather core, albeit not from Fawkes", Professor Dumbledore explained.

Bart nodded at this before turning tail and leaving, with the ageing mage watching him with his customary twinkling of the eyes.

* * *

Some hours later, Bart recounted the whole meeting to Gemma in an abandoned classroom. Gemma was initially angry that Professor Snape had deliberately led her out of the dungeon before informing Bart of the meeting, but as Bart explained what happened her expression became amused. However, amusement progressed to concern.

"He just ended the meeting? He didn't try to pump you for further information?" Gemma perplexedly asked.

After Bart shook his head, Gemma continued.

"Are you sure you didn't make eye contact, even for a second?"

"Yes."

"Did you detect any sensation going on in your head, like when I entered your mind?"

Bart shook his head. Come to think of it, he didn't feel any when Professors Dumbledore and Snape had done so prior to today, either – and both had _definitely_ tried to read his mind at some stage.

_Hmmm…Gemma said she wasn't very good at this sort of thing. Maybe Dumbledore or Snape can enter someone's mind without causing any pain because they're better at doing it than Gemma is_, Bart shrewdly thought.

"You know Gemma, he _might_ have entered my mind without me knowing. I mean, he's probably better at this sort of thing than you are, so it wouldn't surprise me. I don't know how much information he would have gotten out of me, though", Bart admitted.

"Not as much as if he made direct eye contact, I don't think. I was _never_ able to extract anything out of my father without making eye contact.

He'll probably call you in for further meetings, so keep on doing what you did if he does. Don't give him straight answers and do _not _make eye contact", Gemma advised.

"Yes'm", Bart replied as they walked to the Slytherin common room.

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Nine:**

Whether Legilimency is more effective with eye contact, or just simply easier to perform, is a matter of interpretation, so I've made out both to be the case.


	10. Book 1: Bart the Troll Hunter

**Chapter Ten**

Soon enough, Halloween arrived. In the interim, Gemma's predictions had come to pass; the older students had stopped doing Draco's bidding and even the blond himself had largely stopped insulting Bart. Instead, he usually threw Bart dirty looks, which Bart would invariably respond to with his inimitable smirk.

Draco's mood mustn't have been helped by the fact that the other houses caught wind of his humiliating duel with Bart, so he was also subjected to giggles and points while he was roaming the corridors with his posse. Although Bart exchanged few words with Harry or the other Gryffindors, he couldn't help but take pleasure whenever they levelled mickey-taking jibes at the conceited ponce.

"Hey Malfoy, no wonder you chickened out of our duel; every time you have one, you look like the try-hard that you really are!" Bart heard Ron sneer one day, to Harry's predictable amusement. "How does it feel to be beaten by a Muggleborn?"

_Dra-goon challenged them to a duel? Was that why they were on the third floor that night?_ Bart wondered.

Bart saw the Weasley twins join in the fun by melodramatically staggering around when they saw Malfoy in the Great Hall, as if struck by _Locomotor Wibbly_. They then explained, "Sorry Malfoy, just suffering from a bout of Loser's Lurch. It must be contagious because we seem to get it whenever you show your ugly ferret face." Being the consummate coward, Malfoy glared at them but did not dare to try and curse them given how out-numbered he was.

Additionally, he had received a letter from Marge. Upon reading it, Bart was relieved that Homer hadn't yet obliterated Springfield via a nuclear meltdown. However, the family still got caught up in crazy escapades.

Ever the showman, Homer briefly replaced Sideshow Mel as Sideshow Homer on Krusty's show. Homer's showmanship and willingness to put himself through any kind of abuse, including getting shot at with cannonballs, excited children everywhere in Springfield, but Krusty felt that Homer would eventually usurp his position and so fired him, on the pretext that Homer's beard, which apparently only Krusty could see, was too long.

Marge and Lisa, meanwhile, had taken to looking after Incest Spuckler, after the boy had fled from his family's filthy living conditions. Unfortunately, both were soon put off by the young lad, not just because he didn't like to shower or shampoo his hair more than once a month, but because of his…_peculiar_ dietary habits. Indeed, his favourite dish happened to be chopped and fried skunk with boiled gumboot leather on the side. When Gemma read this, she was horrified.

_This boy behaves like a particularly rabid werewolf – at least normal werewolves shower regularly and don't eat leather for lunch. And Muggles think that _we're _freaks? What sort of braindead parent names their child 'Incest'_ _anyway?_ Gemma thought, her desire to have Bart spend as little time in Springfield as possible intensifying as she read his letter.

When Bart saw her aghast expression, he sought to reassure her. "Don't worry, Gemma. Freaky things keep happening in Springfield, so I'm used to hearing about this sort of stuff. If you think Springfield's bad, half the neighbouring town is inbred because…OK, maybe that was _too _much information", Bart admitted upon witnessing Gemma's look of growing horror.

Unfortunately, other issues had rendered the interim period less than pleasurable for Bart. For one, Professor Snape had taken to watching him like a stalker would their crush. Indeed, the Potions professor was monitoring him so intently that he had even laid off Harry to a certain degree, which might have gratified Harry but did little to improve Bart's disposition. Professor Snape's unwanted attention, plus Bart having the perennially accident-prone Neville as a partner, turned Potions into an ordeal wherein Bart's cool head and quick thinking constantly averted disaster, much to the sour sorcerer's disappointment.

_Dumbledore must be putting him up to it_, Bart thought, as he frequently saw the two eyeing him during the various feasts in the Great Hall. _If they were chicks, I'd assume that they were attracted to me. Luckily they're not, otherwise I'd have to live with being crushed on by old, ugly chicks_, he thought before shuddering. He surreptitiously brought them to Gemma's attention but Gemma merely told him not to concern himself with them.

Making matters worse was the mountain of homework he received from teachers, which he found far more burdensome than that given in Springfield Elementary. Much to his chagrin, Daphne and Tracey, who as promised sat next to him in class, at one point kindly informed him that he could _not_ answer the question, "Why is it important to perform firm, decisive wand movements when transfiguring objects?", with the flippant, "It's not, because I don't need a wand to transfigure stuff."

Additionally, despite his best endeavours Bart had enjoyed limited success mastering the spells in _Buddhist Combat Magic_. Initially, he had tried to transfigure blades instead of learning said spells, but he quickly realised that he couldn't make them sharp enough, nor could he banish them quickly enough to penetrate the dummies he was practising on. Hence, after much practice, involving conjuring blades that dissolved or fragmented immediately after being cast, Bart finally managed to cast the basic _tant__ō_, or dagger.

Owing to his cursory knowledge of Japanese, Bart had little difficulty getting the pronunciation right. However, he quickly discovered that solid blades were much trickier to aim than regular spells due to their greater weight – one spectacularly misplaced casting attempt wound up lodging itself, not in the chest of the dummy directly facing him, but in the crotch of the dummy well to the right. He eventually improved his aim after much painful trial and error, but he still lacked his usual pinpoint precision.

_Damn, I hope I don't need to use that spell any time soon_, Bart thought with uncharacteristic weariness.

* * *

On Halloween morning, the school feasted on some sumptuous pumpkin bread.

_I didn't think you could ever make pumpkin taste delicious. How wrong I was_, Bart mused.

After that, the Slytherins had transfiguration. Apparently the object of the lesson was to transfigure a mouse into a matchbox. As Professor McGonagall was explaining how to do so, she discovered that Bart had already transfigured the mouse.

"Simpson! Have you _already_ transfigured your mouse into a matchbox?" querulously asked Professor McGonagall.

"Yes, indeedy", Bart responded, with Daphne scowling at his irreverence.

"But I haven't even finished teaching the class the incantation! Can't you at least wait until after I've done that?" the tall witch sputtered.

"Waiting seems pretty pointless to me. I mean, it's not like I need a wand to transfigure stuff", Bart dryly noted.

"Mr. Simpson, my job is to teach this content. Your job is to _learn it_", the professor pointedly countered.

"But obviously I've already learnt it, since I've already done – OW!" Bart yelled, as Daphne kicked his shin from underneath the table.

"I don't usually approve of students kicking one another, but in this case I thank you, Miss Greengrass", the black-haired professor sighed, as Bart scowled at a smirking Daphne and the rest of the class snickered.

"Remember what I said about not behaving like a complete prat towards teachers, Bart?" Daphne smugly asked, to which Bart's scowl increased.

Bart's mood would not improve, for Professor McGonagall split everybody into pairs. Unfortunately, as the odd man out, this meant that Bart was paired with the professor herself, who insisted that Bart perform the incantation. Because he didn't wish to spend much time with her, he held his wand to the left and did so.

"Well, wasn't that a complete waste of time?" Bart snarked.

"No, because you have shown that you can correctly perform the incantation, Mr. Simpson. 10 points to Slytherin for being able to transfigure a mouse into a matchbox without a wand – and 10 points _from _Slytherin for your smart mouth", Professor McGonagall replied with a flicker of a smirk.

Bart briefly scowled at this but noted, "Well, at least I didn't call you 'Mrs. Skinner' this time. Isn't that an improvement?"

"I noticed Mr. Simpson; otherwise I would have given you a detention as well", the professor dryly noted with another momentary smile.

Bart looked around and noticed that only Daphne had been able to transfigure her mouse into a matchbox. _Well, at least I'm doing better than these losers_, Bart thought to himself. Nonetheless, he was still eager to put as much distance between himself and the professor as possible after the lesson ended.

* * *

Upon entering the Great Hall, Bart absorbed the sight of a thousand live bats swooping over the tablets, creating low black clouds that partially obscured the thousand live bats fluttering from the ceiling and walls.

_Wow, this has got to be the coolest thing I've seen since I've been here_, thought an awestruck Bart. _Maybe I can keep one as a pet_, Bart thought as he summoned one towards him. Unfortunately, as soon as he did so, the bat vanished.

"No, you cannot keep them as pets, young Bart", an amused voice informed him from behind.

Turning around, Bart found himself face to face with the twinkling eyes and smiling countenance of Headmaster Dumbledore, at which point the young mage immediately avoided eye contact.

"But – how did they - ?"

"Magic, my dear boy", came the wizened wizard's enigmatic response. "Now, would you be so kind as to join the rest of your housemates at the feast?"

Bart complied and set down next to Gemma before tucking into his food. Some minutes in, a terror-struck Professor Quirrell bolted into the hall and informed the Headmaster that there was a troll in the dungeons before fainting.

_A troll? Now _this _I have to see_, Bart thought as he took advantage of the resultant pandemonium to disillusion and silence himself before dashing towards the dungeons.

Moments after he did so, Gemma and the tall, dark-haired male prefect assembled the other Slytherin first years, but she quickly realised that Bart was not among them.

_Where's Bart – oh, bloody hell! He's gone to see the troll!_ Gemma realised, her skin turning ever more porcelain.

She turned towards the dark-haired prefect and told him, "Craggy, Simpson has gone down to the dungeons. Snape needs to be notified."

Unfortunately, when Prefect Craggy and Gemma looked around, the hook-nosed professor was nowhere within sight. Gemma cursed inwardly and realised that she would have to behave like a Gryffindor and chase after Bart with no backup. If she didn't, then Bart might well die; a terrible outcome for numerous reasons.

"Craggy, look after the firsties. I'm going after Simpson!" Gemma exclaimed as she ran towards the dungeons. As she did so, her mind was overwhelmed with strong, negative emotions. Rage because her best chance of increasing and consolidating her family's power was apparently happy to risk his life just to see a troll. Anger at the sort of idiot who would let a _troll_ into a place full of schoolchildren. Finally, she also felt genuine fear for Bart's sake.

_I've obviously come to care for Bart, beyond what he can do for me._

Initially, Gemma saw Bart as a means of eliminating or subjugating her enemies, thus strengthening her family's position. She had also felt anger and disgust over how Bart had been humiliated at the opening feast.

However, as she was running, Gemma realised that she had grown genuinely fond of the boy. Not just for his magical talents, but also because of his dry, witty, snarky sense of humour, remembering how many times he had made her laugh. She realised that he wasn't protecting Bart solely out of self-interest anymore, but also as a friend.

An actual _friend_ – the concept was new to Gemma. She had formed plenty of acquaintances, associates and allies throughout her life, in a bid to improve her station and that of her family, but not friends _per se_. In Slytherin it was quite difficult to form genuine friendships, as opposed to allies or associates, because most everyone had some sort of self-interested agenda to push.

Making friends with Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs was out of the question – Slytherin's rivalry with Gryffindor was intense, while Hufflepuffs were generally too different from Slytherins. As for Ravenclaws, they were on cordial terms because both houses valued intellect to at least some degree, but Slytherin's dark reputation seemed to dissuade most Ravenclaws from actually befriending them. Conversely, Slytherins traditionally saw Ravenclaws as being relatively lacking in ambition outside of the academic realm.

The realisation that Bart had become her friend made her sprint across the corridors, shoving aside anyone who obstructed her. She wasn't letting a friend die if she could help it!

* * *

Meanwhile, Bart was running pell-mell towards the dungeons. As he did so, the air was suddenly rent with a high-pitched, terrified scream. Bart's eyes duly widened.

_It's going to kill someone!_ he thought as he frantically turned the corner. After he did so, he saw Harry and Ron enter a nearby doorway. Realising that the troll was inside, he bolted after them, only stopping upon reaching the doorway. He gaped at what he saw.

True, he had not expected that the troll would win any 'Miss Universe' pageants, but he was nevertheless taken aback at just how revolting the creature was. It appeared to be twelve feet tall, with dull, granite grey skin. Its body resembled a boulder, with its tiny head, no doubt housing a miniscule brain, resembling a pea by comparison. Its legs were short and thick and it had two-toed feet with giant, protruding toenails. Rounding out the whole unpleasant package was a smell so pungent that it made Maggie's soiled diapers smell positively fragrant by comparison.

Seeing that the troll was advancing on Hermione, Bart peppered it with a volley of non-verbal spells before Harry and Ron could react, but that only made the beast turn and advance towards the three boys behind it.

_Oh crap. It's obviously harder to take down than a normal wizard_, Bart thought as the troll inexorably advanced closer, club in hand. _Well, I didn't want to have to resort to this, but..._

"Harry! Ron! Move aside! I'm taking down the troll!" Bart ordered.

"But it's –" Harry began.

"NOW!"

Taken aback by Bart's unusually forceful tone, the two boys complied, but not before Ron threw him an ugly look.

Ignoring Ron, Bart thought, _t__his had better work, because otherwise it's goodnight Bart Simpson_. He then readied his spell, flicking his left wrist sideways before snapping it forward in a perfect 45 degree motion and bellowing, "_Tantō!_"

His aim was true, for the resulting razor-sharp dagger plunged into the troll's leg at great velocity. Howling with pain, the troll fell backwards onto the ground with a thunderous thud.

Harry and Ron briefly gaped at the sight, but then demonstrated why they had been sorted into Gryffindor, as Harry ran past the troll to drag Hermione out of the danger zone while Ron yelled "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" The club suddenly floated out of the troll's hand and into the air, before turning over and smashing into the troll's head with breakneck force, knocking it out.

"Bart Simpson: Troll Hunter. Has a certain ring to it, don't you think?" Bart snarked.

The other three glared at him; Hermione was about to snarl in response but was beaten to the punch by Gemma, who had just entered the doorway.

"BART SIMPSON!" she bellowed.

_Oh crap, _Bart thought as the other three snickered. Before he could react, Gemma turned him around and shook him violently.

"Whatever in Merlin's name were you _thinking_, running off to see a troll? You could have been _killed_, you incurable _idiot_!" Gemma screeched.

However, before she could do anything else, there was a sudden slamming sound and loud footsteps, as Professors McGonagall, Quirrell and Snape burst into the room. The turbaned wizard duly fainted, much to Bart's amusement. However, his amusement was cut short by Professors Snape and McGonagall. The cloaked professor looked as if he wanted to make Bart eat his own entrails, while the witch's face conveyed quiet fury, with her piercing glare and whitened lips.

Breaking the silence, Professor Snape asked Gemma, "Miss Farley, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you have been supervising the other first years?"

Gemma sighed and responded, "I noticed that Ba-, I mean, _Simpson_, was not with the other first years and so I realised that he had gone to see the troll. I could not see any teachers around, and time was of the essence, so I ran after Simpson before he got himself killed."

Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. _She was about to use Simpson's first name. Just how close are they?_ he wondered. Nonetheless, he accepted her explanation and replied, "Very well. I will discipline Simpson accordingly. You may leave."

Gemma nodded and left, but not before throwing Bart a scowl. Bart didn't respond; he didn't feel like provoking Gemma into transfiguring him into something horrible later on.

Snape briefly checked the troll, before turning to Bart and uttering, "Detention for recklessly endangering your life, Simpson. My office, 8pm tonight. You will again be cleaning cauldrons _without _magic."

"Gee, I didn't think that you valued my life that much", came Bart's _bon mot_, to which the middle-aged witch scowled and the three Gryffindor students gaped.

Snape bent over and hissed, "You're lucky that I haven't given you detention for the entire _week_ as it is, Simpson. If you talk to me like that again, I will most certainly do so, so _don't push it_." He then stormed out of the room.

At that, Bart was left with no doubt that if he was in Gryffindor, Professor Snape would have given him two weeks detention out of spite.

Speaking of Gryffindors, their head of house saw the dagger and asked, "Who stabbed the troll?"

"I conjured a flying dagger, Professor", Bart obsequiously replied, buttering the professor up so she could give him maximal credit. He was picturing her recommending him for an award, naturally to be presented in front of the school so he could bask in all the attention. Unfortunately, he found himself most disappointed with her response.

"Well, take 5 points for Slytherin for that very impressive display of combat magic. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. Now you may leave for Slytherin's common room to finish your feast with the rest of your housemates; I need to have words with my fellow Gryffindors", she explained, turning to the others with a scowl.

Bart said nothing in response, merely nodding at the others before traipsing off to his common room. While walking, he thought to himself, _so, how do I let everyone in the school know what I did? _He then broke into a sly grin as he thought,_ Well, McGarnagle, I mean McGonagall, _did _say that all of Slytherin House would be in the common room, so why don't I get their attention first?_

* * *

Bart entered the Slytherin Common Room to find it as packed as it had ever been, with everybody eating the food that had been sent from the feast.

_Man, these house elves really know the meaning of room service_, Bart thought as he stood on one of the empty chairs and wordlessly cast a _Verdimilious _charm into the air. True to his expectations, the resultant glowing green orb exploded in the air with a resounding bang, attracting the attention of everybody in the room.

"Get off that chair, Simpson, before I force you off", an older black-haired student ordered.

"Let him talk, Derrick", Gemma ordered. Derrick scowled at her, but he was predictably unwilling to challenge her. Challenging one of the best witches in the school would have been very brave indeed, and Slytherins were not known for their bravery. Gemma then nodded at Bart. Her expression indicated that she was still less than pleased with Bart, so he continued without delay.

"Did you guys know that I just took down a troll, using nothing but my wand and my wits?" Bart asked the room, to which he was met with a brief, shocked silence.

During the interlude, Daphne rolled her eyes and thought to herself, _Here we go again. What did I tell him about behaving in a more subtle, thoughtful manner in front of other Slytherins?_

Draco then ended the silence with a burst of anger.

"Oh stop leading us on Simpson, you filthy attention-seeking Mudblood. Trolls are hard for adult wizards to take down, never mind Mudblood first-years." Draco's protestations were met with a chorus of agreement from many of the other Slytherins, scowls from Gemma, Daphne and Tracey, and poker faces from Theo, Rachel, Millicent and Zabini. _Another detention it is then, Malfoy_, Gemma thought to herself.

"Do you think that _moi_, Bartholomew Simpson, is merely spinning a yarn to _toi_, Draco? Well, let me show you the spell I used to bring it down", Bart replied as he once again flicked and snapped his wand forward in a 45 degree motion before yelling, "_Tantō!_"

The dagger flew over the rest of the students at something approaching Mach speed before landing smack bang on the snake's head located just above the fireplace, at which point every student bar Daphne, Tracey and Gemma gaped. Daphne and Tracey merely scowled at each other, while Gemma placed her hand on her chin and became lost in her own thoughts. _Hmmm…he must have gotten that spell from one of those old spell-books. It must have taken him quite a while to get that spell right, because casting solid objects from a wand is really difficult. Even I haven't fully mastered it. I'll have to ask him exactly where he got that spell from…_

Bart cast yet another _Verdimilious _charm to get the room's attention before finishing his tale.

"Once I brought the stupid freak down, I levitated his club over his head, just like this cup right here", Bart explained as he wandlessly levitated a cup of pumpkin juice over Draco's head, "and brought it ALL THE WAY DOOOOOWWWWWWWN!", he shouted as the cup tipped its contents onto the blond before smacking him right on the bonce.

The room erupted in laughter at the blond boy's misfortune as he hollered, "You'll pay for that, Simpson!" before storming off with his posse.

"And so, that ends the tale of how the heroic Bart Simpson brought down a troll", Bart concluded with an extravagant bow, before he stepped off the chair, surreptitiously swiped a sausage roll and departed for the dungeons in order to serve his detention.

Amidst the resultant murmuring, one student asked, "Hey, where did my sausage roll go?"

* * *

After checking the common room for hidden students, Bart slumped into a chair in a bid to regain some energy after another arduous detention. In fact, this detention was even less pleasant than the last; not only had Professor Snape _not_ forgiven him for his earlier wisecrack, but the older wizard appeared to be in great pain as a result of an injured leg. The pain worsened his already naturally abrasive disposition and he took it out on Bart, constantly needling him for not scrubbing hard enough.

_The day I never have to see that bitter bastard again will be one of the best days of my life_, Bart ruminated sourly. As he did so, Gemma entered and sat down next to him. Evidently, she was still fuming at his behaviour.

"You know Bart, I still feel like turning you into something unpleasant for chasing after the troll like that. Forget about getting yourself expelled; you almost got yourself killed! I can't believe that I'm asking you this, but how can you expect to become a great wizard if you're six feet under before you turn 12?

Even worse, you go and re-enact your encounter with the troll in front of the entire house! Bart, these things have a way of getting around the school - and the results might not be what you expect."

_So? I _want_ stories about myself to spread around the school, _Bart thought, but he didn't want to provoke Gemma. As such, he shuffled guiltily in his seat and looked at her with wide, puppy-dog eyes before responding, "I'm sorry, Gemma. I won't do those things again."

Gemma wasn't sure how sincere he was being – she recognised that puppy-dog look because she herself used it as a child to ingratiate herself to various important people – but she let it slide.

"Apology accepted, Bart. Obviously I should have made this clear earlier, but it's not the Slytherin way to just recklessly rush into situations. That's more of a Gryffindor thing, so if you want to fit into Slytherin and avoid unpleasantness, I'd recommend not doing it."

Bart nodded but then asked, "But…let's just say that I do happen to accidentally find myself in trouble – how do I contact you?" From his perspective, in such a circumstance it would certainly be handy to have a skilled witch like Gemma on call.

"Actually Bart, I'm glad you asked. I've actually been working on a charm which will allow us to communicate. I experimented with various items, including coins, but I eventually settled upon using these pieces of parchment, because you can't write on coins", Gemma explained, holding two pieces of parchment up before handing one to him. "I was going to show you later, when I was sure that I had perfected the charm, but obviously you have a knack for finding trouble so I've decided to test the charm out now. What you have to do is either write or transfigure your thoughts onto the parchment. When you do that, the other parchment will emit heat and so I will be able to read your message. Now, why don't you try it?"

"OK", Bart responded, wandlessly transfiguring a message. Gemma's parchment emitted heat, but when she read it she scowled before yelling, "LEARN TO FART?" at which point Bart laughed uproariously. He then calmed down and replied, "That's pretty cool. Seems like something I might learn, in case I have to communicate with my sister when she shows up at Hogwarts. What's the charm called?"

The Protean Charm. Its incantation is _Proteus_. I picked it up from a book about communication charms. Be warned though; this charm is N.E.W.T level, which means that seventh-year students are expected to pick it up…so you may take a little while to master it. I mean, I've been working on it since I met you.

At hearing this, Bart fluttered his eyelashes and put his hands to his chest. "Aw Gemma, all this effort for little old me? I'm so very touched, my dear."

Gemma rolled her eyes before tersely explaining, "I did it out of necessity Bart, not looooove. It was pretty obvious to me that to help you become a great wizard, I would need to communicate with you as often as possible. I mean, if I can't communicate with you, then how can I help you?"

Bart nodded his head at that logic, being too infatuated with Gemma to question her motivations further.

"But what if I lose this piece of parchment, or it gets stolen?"

"It doesn't matter because the parchments are charmed so that only the original owners – you and I – can see what's written on them. If you lose that one, just come to me and I'll charm another one. So - where did you learn that dagger spell from, anyway?"

"Well, I was reading a book called _Buddhist Combat Magic_. You see, my sister's a Buddhist so I thought that it would be funny if I used Buddhist magic on her. I thought that the spells were all pretty cool so I learnt the easiest one, which was the dagger. Took me a lot of work to get right", Bart explained.

"I'm not surprised. By the way, here's some news that'll cheer you up – I gave Malfoy another detention for calling you a Mudblood in front of the entire common room. That should teach him to disparage you like that in front of me", Gemma gloated.

"I doubt it. He has about as much ability to learn from his mistakes as my Dad does. Honestly, I don't get why he was sorted into Slytherin."

"Well, as I've said, I frankly don't understand why most Slytherin students are actually in Slytherin, rather than in Hufflepuff or some such."

"Yeah – they're losers and Hufflepuff's a loser house, so Hufflepuff would fit them perfectly", Bart snarked, to which Gemma laughed.

"Come on Bart, let me escort you back to your dormitory", Gemma replied as they both opened the door and walked down the dormitory stairs.

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Ten:**

Sorry for the wait between updates; I've been _very _busy.

Yes, the Spucklers actually have a child named _Incest._ See 'Yokel Chords'.

Bart picked up some Japanese when the Simpsons travelled to Japan. See 'Thirty Minutes In Tokyo'.

Craggy is named after Stuart Craggy, who was Slytherin's Quidditch Captain in the 1960's. It would make some sense if the elder Craggy had a son or daughter.

Canon has never made it clear as to just how resistant trolls are to spells. They are much taller than humans but also much smaller than giants, so they're probably in between the two in terms of spell resistance. So where giants would be very difficult to take down, trolls would merely be difficult. Giants can resist intermediate spells (stunners) quite easily, so trolls should be able to resist beginner-to-intermediate curses (which Bart was using) with relative ease.

The incantation _Proteus _is fanon. It's the root word for Protean.


	11. Book 1: Accusations and Infiltrations

**Chapter Eleven**

As Bart had predicted, the story of how he had allegedly single-handedly brought down a troll had spread to all crannies of the castle. He encountered widespread adoration and adulation – even the Gryffindors couldn't find reason to insult him. Indeed, students from far and wide wanted to shake his hand. Unfortunately, some were Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors – at them, he merely nodded his regards, heeding Gemma's advice to not openly ingratiate himself with them.

As for Harry, Ron and Hermione, they slipped him notes after Potions class:

_Bart,_

_I'm not really happy for you taking all the credit for taking down the mountain troll. The four of us know that isn't true. But I am glad that the school is paying attention to you instead of me._

_Still, the way you brought that troll down with that incredible dagger attack was really great! Not the usual first-year spell that one! If you weren't there, I'm not sure what might have happened, so thanks for saving our hides!_

_I've been telling Ron that Slytherins aren't all bad. Hopefully, this convinces him. _

_I wish there was a way we could keep in touch more easily, because we might need your help again. _

_Your friend,_

_Harry_

Bart was legitimately touched by how Harry had called him a 'friend', despite the intense rivalry between the two houses. So much for Gemma's advice to stay away from Gryffindors, huh? A part of the spiky-haired boy wondered how much of her advice was truly correct.

The letters from Hermione and Ron were altogether more concise.

_Bart,_

_I cannot thank you enough for helping to save my life. I still don't approve of your death-seeking tendencies, but maybe it is OK to embrace danger where the lives of others are at stake. I would just like you to be more careful about rushing into such situations, because beneath all the mischief you are a nice person with great magical potential. It would be a shame if you got in so much trouble that it overshadowed your potential._

_Regards,_

_Hermione_

Bart found Hermione's letter surprisingly conflicted. He had expected nothing bar a lecture about his tendency to rush into trouble, but instead she seemed to understand that maybe courting death was sometimes necessary if it assisted a greater cause, such as saving somebody's life. The letter was cordial, but without any connotations of friendship therein. At this point, Bart thought of her as an acquaintance who could be useful in certain situations, but not a friend.

_Simpson,_

_I still think you're a slippery, slimy snake, and so I'm only writing to you because Harry asked me to, but you did good work down in the Dungeons. Just wish you gave me some of the credit._

_Ron_

This sour response cemented the impression in Bart's mind that Ron was basically Gryffindor's answer to Draco - insular, cliquish and prejudiced towards people outside his house. He needed to remain civil to Ron to remain in Harry's good books, especially since he planned to share some of Harry's fame, but it seemed that for the foreseeable future any cooperation between them would come only because Harry was involved, with much clenching of teeth.

The most notable adulation came when the Weasley twins declared Bart to be the 'King of Knives', bowing down before him every time he passed them. Bart positively _absorbed_ their adulation, however exaggerated.

However, just as the snowy mountains turned icy grey, the lake water to chilled steel, the grassy fields of the Quidditch grounds to frost, and autumn to winter, the reception he received turned similarly cold, with adoration and adulation giving way to muck-racking and puerile sensation.

Indeed, by the time November had set in, Bart was subject to rumours that ranged from slightly exaggerated to downright defamatory. Cat-calls, hoots and accusations accosted Bart as he traversed the halls.

"Hey Simpson, I heard you cooked the troll's flesh and ate it!"

"How did the troll's blood taste, Simpson?"

"Simpson, is it true that you used one of the troll's teeth in a dark ritual?"

Draco, who was still smarting over Bart pouring pumpkin juice over his head in the common room, joined in with relish, taunting him during breakfast.

"Hey Simpson, your name is _mud_. Figures doesn't it, given how much of a stinking Mudblood you are!"

"Maybe so Drain-o, but at least I can win a duel", came Bart's retort, shutting the blond up.

_Oh man, this is terrible. Nobody even tried to warn me that this could happen!_ Bart ironically thought before hearing Gemma mutter, "I told you so."

_Oh yeah, that's right…_

On his way to Transfiguration class, Bart endured yet more slander, but consoled himself by thinking, _maybe I should just make myself invisible and be done with it. Oh well, at least nobody has accused me of getting down and dirty with the troll._

Right on cue, a wag called out, "Hey Simpson, I heard you did it with the troll!" to a cacophony of laughter.

_Ok, that does it!_

"Did what?" Bart asked innocently. "Mow the lawn? Go to the county fair? Have a baby shower?" to bemused expressions from his hecklers.

_Heh heh heh, that shut them up_.

Unfortunately, Bart's troubles were not over. As he turned the corner, a voice yelled out, "Hey, troll-boy! Take this!"

Before Bart could react, an older Gryffindor had hit him with a white spell. Instantly, his robes disappeared, with his skin turning grey as he grew two toes on each foot, with protruding ears and nails. His stomach also bloated to gargantuan proportions as his thought processes atrophied.

Before long, Bart had become Hogwarts' newest resident troll, as his transformation was met with fresh laughter and mockery.

"Hey look, everyone. Simpson's trolling us!" one bright spark hollered, causing ever more mirth.

Luckily, the transformation wasn't perfectly executed, so Bart not only retained his tell-tale spikey head of hair, but also some semblance of human thought.

_Me Bart. Me need to go to room to use…feather…thingy_, Bart thought as he stumbled into the correct classroom.

His appearance was met with wide eyes and slack-jawed expressions from the rest of the class, as he grunted and pointed to the empty desk next to Tracey.

The penny then dropped, as Professor McGonagall broke the silence by breathlessly asking, "Mr. Simpson! Is that you?" After Bart nodded, the class burst into hysterical laughter, with Draco and his posse laughing louder than anyone.

After the black-haired professor transfigured Bart back into a human being, Draco quipped, "He hasn't changed one bit!", to yet more laughter.

"I'd rather look like a troll than whatever the hell you look like, Drain-o", Bart spat back as he stormed to the empty chair and sat down in a huff.

"See, this is why Daphne told you that you needed to be more subtle and thoughtful about the way you act and talk when in Slytherin, Bart", Tracey smugly noted, with Daphne sanctimoniously nodding in agreement.

For once in his life, Bart had nothing to say, instead inwardly stewing with a desire for revenge. Such a desire was only strengthened by Professor McGonagall deducting a mere 5 points from Gryffindor after discussing what had happened with Bart after class. As he walked to his Charms class, Bart wondered how he could revenge himself upon his assailant.

_Hmmm…maybe I can get revenge by pranking the Gryffindors in their common room._ _Nah, that's too obvious. Think, Bart – what would a Slytherin do in this situation?_

_Wait, I know! I think it's time for a good old-fashioned frame-up. What I'll do is set off fireworks in every common room _except _the Gryffindor one. That way, everyone will be mad at the Gryffindors and people will start insulting them instead of me. Yeah, that's perfect!_

_The only thing is, where do I get fireworks? Could I try transfiguring them? Wait! Maybe that room that Gemma and I practice in will have some nice, loud fireworks if I just imagine it! I might also have several different types of fireworks to choose from! But when I should carry out the prank?_

_Hmmm…there is a Quiddick – I mean, _Quidditch_ match coming up soon. Most of the school will be busy watching it, so I can go around the school and do my stuff. The only question is, how do I get inside the common rooms? I'm going to have to trick people into showing me how. Well, I have Charms now, so maybe I could ask Professor Flitwick how after class? Just in theory, of course_.

By the time he reached the Charms classroom, Bart was cackling inwardly, belying his neutral countenance.

To butter the diminutive professor up, Bart made a point of both performing the requisite charm with his usual finesse and taking as many notes as he could, figuring that Professor Flitwick would be far more likely to open up to a model student than an…off-model one.

Luckily for Bart, he had already learnt the _Spongify _charm and could thus perform it with his eyes closed – which he naturally did. Upon seeing this, the ever-excitable Professor Flitwick almost collapsed onto the floor after getting positively _giddy_ with excitement.

_Oh, this is _too _perfect. I have him right where I want him_, Bart thought with an evil chuckle. Pressing home his advantage, Bart approached the dwarf-like professor after class, batting his eyelids innocently. Professor Flitwick responded to his approach with typical effusiveness.

"Ah, Mr. Simpson, my most talented student! What do I have the pleasure of discussing with you today?" the professor enquired with his trademark gusto.

"Well, Professor", Bart began with feigned innocence and meekness, "some mean older students have been tricking me into dropping my underpants in the Slytherin dorms. I need to know what spell they've been using so I can try and overcome it."

"Well, Mr. Simpson, there are two possible spells these students could be using. The first one is the Imperius Curse. It is called an Unforgivable Curse because anyone caught using it receives an automatic life sentence in Azkaban – the wizarding prison", the professor clarified after witnessing Bart's befuddled expression. "It can only be resisted by a wizard with exceptional willpower. Since these students are Slytherins, it is most unlikely they are using it because of the potential penalties involved.

No, I believe that they are using a Confundus Charm, which simply confuses and misdirects the target. You would effectively be confused into dropping your underpants. This spell takes a large amount of concentration to cast, but it is certainly possible for an older student to use. Like the Imperius Curse, it can be resisted by those with sufficient willpower."

Bart nodded in understanding as the tiny teacher continued, but inwardly thought, _Great. Something that needs me to actually concentrate. Hopefully I'll be able to concentrate for long enough to pull it off_.

"Mr. Simpson, do you know whom these students are? I can't let bullying like this continue, especially for someone in such a…delicate…position within their house."

"I'm afraid not, sir, but I will tell you once I figure it out", Bart lied.

"I hope that you do, Mr. Simpson. Keep up the good work!" the professor replied, as Bart went on his merry way.

_Now all I have to do is learn the Confundus Charm. But how? I guess I would do what Lisa would do – read a book._

* * *

Sure enough, Bart was back in the duelling arena with a book in hand, learning about the Confundus Charm.

_So it can not only be used to confuse and misdirect people, but objects as well? I'll keep that in mind; it could come in handy._

Ever a man of action, Bart quickly placed the book down, transfigured a stink bomb into a cat and practised the charm.

Much to his consternation, however, even when he correctly performed the wand movement, he could only perform the charm for a short amount of time before his ADD-addled mind lost concentration. He pressed on, casting the charm repeatedly, but found that he was doing little except exhausting himself.

_There must be a way to improve my concentration. But how – THAT'S IT!_ Bart thought as he had a 'eureka' moment. _Meditation! That's how Lisa and I prepared for that miniature golf tournament! It really sharpened my focus._

He then sat down and meditated in a stereotypical fashion, crossing his legs and placing his arms on his thighs while breathing deeply. After 30 seconds, he felt more focused and relaxed.

_Right, let's try now_, he thought. He hit the cat with a Confundus Charm and found that he could hold it for longer without his concentration breaking.

_Maybe if I meditate some more, I'll be able to hold the spell for even longer_, Bart contemplated as he adopted his meditation pose again, challenging himself to stay still for longer periods of time. This whole process continued for the next week, until he reached the point where he could hold the Confundus Charm on cats for more than 2 minutes.

_Su-poib_, Bart thought as he vanished the cat and left the room. _Now all I need is access to some fireworks. What if I think, 'I need a place with lots of unused fireworks'? Yeah, that'll do the trick_. With that, Bart paced past the place where the door previously was three consecutive times before a door came up.

_Let's see what lies within_, Bart thought as he opened the door. He was met with a sight for a prankster's sore eyes – row upon row of fireworks of different colours and varieties.

_Whoa, awesome!_ the mischievous mage thought as he scouted the room like a kid in a candy store. Eventually, he came across _Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks_ – only this variety had a timer attached.

_Hmmm…I could set these to all go off at the same time. Imagine the panic it would cause if explosions rocked the school_, Bart thought to himself with a smirk as he swiped a few and placed them into his school bag before leaving the room, sniggering evilly all the while.

* * *

Sure enough, Saturday came around in all its bright yet frigid glory, with almost everybody bar Bart gearing up to attend the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Gemma was no exception, and the room was alive with talk of the upcoming game. Even the teachers were participating in the conversation, with Professors McGonagall and Snape having a particularly animated discussion.

"Hey Bart, are you going to come with me to see Slytherin play Gryffindor?" Gemma asked Bart over a sumptuous English breakfast.

"No thanks. I was actually going to practice some spells in that Buddhist combat book", Bart lied.

"Good luck – you'll most certainly need it", Gemma wryly observed as she ate her fried sausages.

Bart smirked to himself as he observed the goings on among other tables. Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry looked particularly haggard, as if he hadn't slept for a thousand years. Hermione didn't seem to be helping, as she appeared to be on the verge of stuffing toast down the bespectacled boy's gullet.

_Glad I don't have to put up with her_, Bart thought.

In the minutes leading up to 11 am, the students began to leave for the Quidditch grounds, ending a period for Bart wherein every minute seemed to take an eternity to pass. After bidding Gemma farewell, Bart took advantage of the commotion by disillusioning and silencing himself before becoming one with the crowd. He eventually encountered a trio of Hufflepuffs who were around his age, one of whom was a red-headed girl. In a trice, he struck her in the back with a precisely placed Confundus Charm before muttering, "You have forgotten something from the Hufflepuff common room and need to go back and get it." It took considerable amounts of concentration to not break the charm while he was issuing his command – indeed, humans were altogether more difficult to confound than cats – but his meditation sessions held him in good stead.

"Uh guys, I need to go back to our common room and get something. I'll find you lot in the stands", the red-head began.

"No problem, Susan", the blond-haired girl responded as Susan ventured back to the Hufflepuff common room, with Bart in tow. As she inadvertently led him back to the badger's lair, Bart became absorbed in his own thoughts.

_Susan…I know this girl, but from where?_ Bart thought before having yet another epiphany. _Wait, I know! This girl is named Susan Boners, I mean Bones! She was sorted before I was! Gemma told me to watch out for her because of her aunt. If only Gemma could see me controlling her now!_ he thought with triumph, as Susan went down a familiar-looking staircase. Bart quickly realised that this was the same staircase that led to the Hogwarts kitchens.

Sure enough, Susan led him into the same stone basement corridor where Gemma had used Legilimency to interrogate Bart. She then turned towards the right-hand side of the corridor and stopped in front of a nook, which was concealed by a few barrels that were stacked against the wall. To Bart's surprise, Susan then tapped the barrels in a rhythm that certainly wasn't derived from modern Western popular music. The lid behind the barrels then swung open and Susan made to walk through.

_I can't let her close the door behind her!_ Bart frantically thought. Using his trademark quick thinking, he hit her with yet another Confundus Charm, all the while muttering, "You will forget to close the lid." While casting the spell for the second time wore him out further, she eventually did and he quickly stepped in before quietly closing the lid behind him, lest some other Hufflepuff notice the ajar lid and raise the alarm.

The sight that greeted him made him shiver in revulsion. Basically, the Hufflepuff common room was round and earthy, with a low ceiling. Where the Slytherin dungeons exuded an air of cool mystique, the Hufflepuff equivalent was so wholesome that it reminded Bart of the Flanders residence. Like the Flanders residence, it was clearly meant to be warm and welcoming but instead it made Bart want to shoot vomit across the room. The circular windows that provided a prime view of rippling grass and dandelions didn't help much, making Bart feel as if he was watching a Teletubbies sketch. What _really_ rounded off the whole nausea-inducing package, however, was a portrait of a rotund lady, who was obviously meant to be the house founder or some such.

_Oh man, seeing her picture would kill a few boners,_ Bart thought with a shudder. Not wanting to spend much time in such a saccharine environment, Bart looked for a place to attach the firework. Spotting a low table near a fireplace, he threw himself under the table before attaching and timing the firework to go off at 2 am, to both minimise potential injuries and maximise potential annoyance. He then scarpered out before he succumbed to his mounting nausea.

* * *

As Bart left the stone basement corridor and headed up the stairs, he wondered where he would find a Ravenclaw student to confound.

_Hmmm…Dumbledore told me that Ravenclaw values intelligence. That means that most Ravenclaw students are probably geeks or nerds. So they probably hang out at the library or something._

With renewed purpose, Bart headed to the Hogwarts Library. Once there, he took a moment to take in the unpalatable sight of the librarian, Irma Pince.

_Ay carumba, why is it that half of these teachers look more like birds, animals or creatures than people? Snape looks like a bat, Flitwick looks like one of Snow White's seven dwarves and this woman looks like a vulture. Does magic make teachers even uglier? Yeeeesh._

He then headed in the direction where he heard the sound of quietly chattering students. What he saw took his breath away.

The Ravenclaw boy he saw might have had straight, lighter brown hair rather than darker curly brown hair, but he had the same high cheek-bones and dark, intense brown eyes as Seraphinus. There was no doubt in Bart's mind that this was Terry Boot, and that the two were related. He also remembered how the English branch of the Boot family was reputed by Gemma to be close to Headmaster Dumbledore in some fashion. He briefly wondered if the same was true of the American branch, but then went about hitting him in the back with the Confundus Charm.

"You have forgotten something from your common room and so you want to get it", Bart muttered under his breath. He had recovered some from when he cast the second Confundus Charm on Susan, but nonetheless was worn out further by having to concentrate.

"Hey Sue, I need to get something from our common room", Terry stated, to which Sue simply nodded.

_Not much for words, these Ravenclaws_, Bart thought with a smirk as Terry unwittingly led Bart out of the library. Unlike Susan, however, Terry was leading Bart up the various stairwells, until they reached a door without a doorknob or keyhole. Instead, there existed an eagle-shaped bronze knocker. To Bart's surprise, the knocker started spouting a riddle.

"What is greater than Merlin,  
more evil than You-Know-Who,  
the poor have it,  
the rich need it,  
and if you eat it, you'll die?"

"Nothing", responded Terry, as the door swung open. Bart had the presence of mind to confound Terry once again so he forgot to close the door behind him, but unfortunately doing so brought Bart to the brink of exhaustion.

Stumbling inside and closing the door behind him, he took in the scenery for a moment. This common room was more to his liking than the sickly sweet Hufflepuff one, as it was wide and circular, featuring arched windows hung with blue and bronze silks, alongside a midnight blue carpet covered in stars. He found that the carpet was reflected on the ceiling, giving off the illusion that he was staring into an evocative night sky. Better yet, there was no boner-killing portrait of an obviously overweight founder.

After taking in the sights, Bart flung himself under a table and attached the firework, before timing it and staggering out of the common room. By this time, he had used enough magic to render him tipsy, as he stumbled towards the Slytherin dungeons like a sacred cow. Luckily, he was able to not only remain invisible, but also attach and time a firework under a table in his house's common room before heading down to the dormitories. However, it took all his remaining energy to climb into bed and cast a _Protego Totalum _before de-cloaking and going out like a light.

* * *

In Bart's ensuing dream, he was busy duelling Mr. Burns with his wand, apparently to determine the fate of the universe. Behind Mr. Burns lay his loyal snake Slithers, who was seemingly ready to strike should Bart take his eyes off him for so much as a millisecond. Both were trading curses of indeterminate origin with frightening speed.

Just as Bart appeared to be winning, a ghostly voice called out, _Simpson! Simpson!_ Briefly distracted, he was hit by Mr. Burns with an orange curse. He screamed to the stars as his body began to disintegrate slowly and painfully, with Mr. Burns cackling madly all the while. Bart awoke with a start and turned to his left. He saw Theo's weedy figure and vaguely rat-faced visage staring back at him with unsettling intensity.

"Come on, we have to go to the feast!" Theo exclaimed.

_Need to be careful of this dude. His Dad worked for Voldemort_, Bart thought as he hauled himself out of bed and followed Theo into the Great Hall before sitting down next to Gemma, who looked very pleased indeed.

"Hey Bart, Slytherin beat Gryffindor. Gryffindor's idiot seeker was too busy showboating to actually catch the Snitch", Gemma gloated.

"Yeah, great", Bart replied less than enthusiastically, still feeling for all the world as if he had consumed the contents of the entire Duff brewery.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel a bit tired", Bart lied as he locked eyes with Harry over at the Gryffindor table.

* * *

After making eye contact with Bart, Harry opined, "Ron, Hermione, I think we should let Bart know what's going on with Fluffy and Nicolas Flamel."

"Are you sure, Harry? What if he stabs us in the back?" Ron asked with just a tinge of paranoia.

"As I've told you Ron, Slytherins aren't all bad. He basically saved us in the dungeons", Harry replied, tired of drilling that sentiment into Ron's head.

"I agree with Harry. I don't approve of Bart's behaviour, but he is very skilled for his age, and so he could help us a great deal", Hermione noted.

"I'll slip him a note in Potions, then", Harry finished, despite Ron's protests.

* * *

At 2 am the next morning, the Slytherin dormitory was rocked by massive explosions as Bart's fireworks went off. Bart and the rest of his roommates abruptly woke up. Realising what was happening, Bart decided to milk the incident for all it was worth to throw suspicion off himself.

"WE'RE BEING ATTACKED! SOMEONE NEEDS TO LOCK THAT DOOR!" Bart hysterically howled.

"Alright, alright Simpson, don't go off your rocker", Theo admonished as he locked the door by uttering, "Colloportus!"

"Nice display of composure there, Simpson", Draco taunted, to which Bart simply made an obscene gesture.

Before Draco could respond in kind, Prefect Craggy magically unlocked the door and burst in like a freight train.

"Everybody out! All four houses have to meet up in the Great Hall", the male prefect thundered.

As Bart emerged from the dormitory into the dim light of the Slytherin Common Room, he surveyed – and savoured – the damage.

From what he could see, the table under which he planted the firework had been blasted into matchsticks, with the common room being peppered by ugly black scorch marks. Indeed, the place resembled a warzone.

_Ah, I should write a book. 'The Art of Pranking' I would call it_, Bart whimsically thought as he arrived in the Great Hall and waited for Gemma to take her seat in the usual place.

Not too long after he sat, Headmaster Dumbledore took the floor. Bart marvelled at his ability to instantly command the entire hall's attention, turning heads merely by enunciating some syllables.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been an attack on the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin common rooms. The damage was extensive, but has since been repaired. If anybody knows anything about who perpetrated this act, please consult myself or one of the teachers. Thank you."

The Great Hall then burst into speculation and Bart sat back appreciatively, as if he was enjoying a good movie.

_This'll take the attention off me_, he thought with a satisfied smirk.

* * *

Bart had no idea how correct he was. Much to Bart's pleasure, the Gryffindors were viciously attacked the next morning, both at breakfast and in the corridors, with students from other houses throwing food, parchment and insults at them. Indeed, it seemed like Bart's encounter with the troll may as well have occurred a century ago given the attention he was now not receiving.

_Ah, I love it when a plan comes together_, Bart smugly thought as he witnessed the opprobrium directed towards the Gryffindors.

However, as with so many of Bart's pranks, by dinner it was clear that the consequences of his prank had spiralled out of control.

"Hey Bart, I heard that they caught the students responsible for blowing up our common room", Gemma began.

Bart's eyes became as wide as the Sahara Desert upon hearing that. "Ummm…who?"

"The Weasley Twins. They're apparently going to be expelled."

_WHAT? _"Serves those filthy pranksters right", Bart unconvincingly replied, trying to hide his rising panic as he agonised over what course of action he should take.

He remembered the last time he was in a position to clear an innocent person's name; namely, when Freddie Quimby was wrongly accused of beating a French waiter. Sure, Quimby was a jackass, and coming forward would have had serious ramifications for Bart, but the boy still could not in good conscience let Quimby go to jail for a crime he didn't commit.

And, in a moment of perfect clarity, Bart realised that he could not conscionably let the Weasley twins get expelled for something that he did.

With that, he finished his food and briskly walked out of the Great Hall before hurtling towards the Headmaster's Office as fast as his legs could carry him. When he finally got there, he veritably blurted out the password before scampering in.

At this point, the centenarian headmaster looked up and greeted him with typical affability.

"Ah, young Bart. How can I trouble you on this lovely evening? Would you like a Lemon Drop?"

"No thanks, Headmaster Dumbledore. Listen, I know who blew up those common rooms."

"Really? Please enlighten me."

"It…was me."

To prove that he was telling the truth, Bart then stared into the ageing headmaster's eyes with such intensity that he could have burnt out the older man's orbs. Silence then momentarily hung over the room before the wizened mage offered Bart a seat and adopted a more serious tone.

"Tell me, Bart. Why did you attack those common rooms?"

"So that the school wouldn't tease or attack me in the corridors. A Gryffindor student turned me into a troll, so I got revenge by pinning the attack on the Gryffindors. But I never meant to frame the Weasley twins", Bart insisted, before sharing the memory of his transfiguration into a troll with Professor Dumbledore.

After a moment, the headmaster nodded in acknowledgement before wearily concluding, "Bart, you have committed a serious offence. In other circumstances, I might be tempted to expel you. However, you demonstrated moral fibre in coming forward even though you knew that you would be punished if you did. I will simply deduct 50 points from Slytherin and have you serve a detention with Professor Snape. I will also have the student who transfigured you into a troll punished."

Bart sighed in relief and made to swirl and saunter out of the room before Headmaster Dumbledore said something else in an altogether lighter tone.

"By the way, you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley may have an extra 45 points each for saving the life of another student."

Bart smiled appreciatively before departing the room. When he did, the ageing headmaster leaned back on his chair and lost himself in thought. Truth be told, he had never for a moment intended to expel the Weasley twins. When Professor McGonagall brought them into his office, he established their innocence by using Legilimency to peruse their memories. After doing so, he simply told Professor McGonagall to let slip false information about the Weasley twins' upcoming expulsion when she was sure students could hear her. He had hoped – correctly as it transpired – that those rumours would convince the real culprit to come forward.

In another sense, he was relieved that Bart had shown himself not to be like Tom Riddle, the prospect of which might well have given the headmaster a heart attack. Forget about coming forward; Riddle would have likely framed another student to cover his tracks, as the elderly mage suspected that he did with Hagrid many a moon ago. That Bart proved himself unwilling to do that distinguished him favourably from his older Slytherin counterpart and allowed the headmaster to sleep soundly that night.

* * *

**Author's notes for Chapter Eleven**

Apologies for the long delay; life got in the way yet again.

It's not clear how you resist the Confundus Charm in canon to my knowledge, so I compared it to the Imperius Curse in terms of how to resist it, since both spells manipulate the mind.


	12. Book 1: Better Homes than Bart's

**Chapter Twelve**

One mid-December morning, Bart looked outside, only to discover that Hogwarts had been inundated in snow. Images of Springfield winters gone by immediately flooded through his mind, as he remembered how snowballs speared through the air and snowmen made their presence felt.

Such whimsical thoughts provided needed maintenance of morale, for the last month was most trying. Sure, the school had been thoroughly distracted by his audacious attack on three common rooms, with the usually chipper Weasley twins seeming particularly perturbed by angry schoolmates querulously asking them why they were still attending Hogwarts.

However, after Bart confessed to Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape had taken to literally breathing down Bart's neck whenever possible, making his Potions class most uncomfortable.

_Goddamn, _Bart thought during one lesson, _he's acting like some fangirl. Maybe I should ask him if he wants my autograph or something. Geez._

The cloaked man made no threats; his actions spoke a thousand words. These included making Bart clean cauldrons with a dirty old toothbrush, rather than a regular brush. As Bart did so, he contemplated his misfortune. And just how many times had he cleaned these cauldrons, since he had set foot inside the older man's figurative Batcave? Probably enough to give him PTSD, he thought as he wearily ventured back to his dormitory one evening.

The rapidly chilling air had not improved the young lad's mood one iota, nor did Draco's jibes. At times Bart wondered whether the blond was an empath, such was his uncanny ability to exploit somebody's low mood with a jagged comment.

"Hey Simpson, looking forward to returning to your hovel over Christmas?" enquired the annoying blond in the dormitory.

"At least my family can afford a hovel, Drain-o", snapped Bart.

"Come to my manor and say that, Simpson. Oh wait, Mudbloods aren't allowed in my manor!" responded Draco, as his goons guffawed.

"That's good. It probably smells like shit, just like you", Bart replied, melodramatically waving his hand in front of his nose.

Draco made to curse Bart in his bed, but recalling the last time he tried to, merely dressed before offering Bart a piercing glare as he left, which Bart returned with a flirtatious wave.

However, Draco didn't merely insult Bart. For example, when Harry seemed particularly down during one Potions lesson, Draco commented on how Harry was obviously unwanted at home due to having elected to stay over Christmas. Unlike Bart, Harry refrained from comment.

Speaking of the bespectacled boy, he had earlier slipped Bart a note, which the latter boy surreptitiously read after disillusioning and silencing himself.

_Bart,_

_Hagrid told us that the three-headed dog's name is named Fluffy, and that it's guarding something. Probably that package from Vault 713 at Gringotts. Whatever it's guarding also involves someone called Nicolas Flamel. I guess you haven't heard of him? If you haven't, maybe you can help us find out over Christmas if you're staying?_

_Your friend,_

_Harry_

After reading the note, Bart pocketed it and revealed himself before helping Neville finish their potion. After his head of house stalked off, though not before damning them with faint praise about their potion being "top of the median", Bart dashed to his desk and ripped out two pieces of parchment before casting the Protean charm on them. He could now confidently cast the charm, but such was not always thus.

Indeed, during the last month his attempts to cast the charm frequently went awry. For example, he wrote a message saying "My name is Bart" - it came up as "I eat lotsa boogers". Another came up as "Ivana Tinkle Onia". However, after perfecting the incantation and experimenting with the angle at which he wrote, he sent altogether more accurate messages.

He wandlessly transfigured a message on one parchment piece and slipped the other into Harry's hand. After class ended, Harry read its contents.

_Hey Harry,_

_Thanks for the message. _

_Sorry, I'm not staying over Christmas._

_I don't know who this Flaming dude is, but I can try and find out. _

_Write on this if you want to tell me something._

_Bart_

Harry laughed at Bart's malapropism, but stopped after reading the last paragraph.

_Bart must be having me on! Did he _really_ bewitch this piece of parchment to send messages to another parchment? Let's find out…_ he thought as he wrote a redundant one-liner.

"Hi Bart, my name is Harry."

"Wow, stop the presses", came Bart's pithy remark, to which Harry chuckled.

_Ok, _this _I have to tell the others about._

* * *

Sure enough, Harry spilled the beans to Ron and Hermione about Bart's invention.

Ron responded with his typical paranoia. "Harry, the guy's a snake. How do we know he simply won't show his fellow snakes what you've written? Like Malfoy?"

Upon hearing this, Harry gave Ron a stare that could freeze the Sahara Desert. "The same Malfoy who Bart duelled with? Also, didn't you say that Bart wasn't all bad?"

Ron hesitated but replied, "Yeah, I diiiiid…but that was only because he was fighting Malfoy. The bloke's still a Slytherin."

Hermione then leapt to Harry's defence, as she logically pointed out, "Ron, just because Bart's a Slytherin doesn't mean that he's working with other Slytherins to undermine us. I actually don't see him associate much with the other first-year Slytherins."

Ron looked affronted, but then quickly narrowed his eyes and spoke with a voice that brooked both contempt and envy.

"Of course you'd say that. I mean, you often act like a Slytherin yourself. Acting all ambitious, driven and cunning all the time, what with your perfect grades. How do we know that you didn't stage that whole damsel-in-distress act in the dungeons, huh? How do we know that you didn't lure that troll to the dungeons so we would have a reason to come and save you?"

Hermione and Harry couldn't believe their ears when they heard Ron say that. It was like all that two of his best friends had experienced together counted for nought in Ron's eyes. Indeed, it was like he had never stopped despising her. After his momentary shock at Ron's outburst wore off, Harry's stare grew even more murderous. If looks could kill, Ron would be in his last, agonising death throes right now.

"You're going to apologise to Hermione right now, Ron", Harry ordered, with a cold, icy voice.

Unfortunately, Harry's order caused Ron's temper to flare up into the proverbial ceiling.

"You know what? I don't think I will. Not unless you stop talking to that snake. He'll betray us all", Ron replied with conviction, his prejudice towards Slytherins emerging with all its ugly might.

"No, we'll need his help - " Harry began, but before he could complete his sentence, Ron collected his possessions and stormed off.

Harry stared at Ron's retreating figure, gobsmacked at just how quickly things between them had gone south. Honestly, the way that things were going, what with Gryffindor's recent Quidditch defeat to their arch-rivals, their death-defying encounters, the mountain of homework he had and the trio's lack of progress discovering whom Nicolas Flamel was, Harry felt that before long, he would be freezing his buttocks off in Antarctica.

Harry turned back to his best female friend, only to discover that her face was about to become like a fountain of tears. Harry wondered what he should do. His reptilian relatives had never afforded him anything _remotely _resembling reassurance, so how could he? Nonetheless, the noble knight within beckoned him to at least _try_.

He walked over to her side of the table and put his hand on her shoulder as she started crying in earnest before reassuring her in his own awkward way, trying to hide his sense of betrayal and disappointment with his soothing words.

"Hermione, we don't really need Ron. If Ron doesn't want to be around us, then he's not worth having as a friend. Hopefully he'll come around, but if he doesn't that's his loss. We still have each other. Bart will still help us", Harry reassured her as she suddenly hugged him, holding him as if he was the last thing on Earth.

Madam Pince had come over to tell them off, but after seeing Hermione's distressed state and meeting Harry's pleading eyes, she nodded her head and mouthed "All right, Potter", in a rare display of empathy and understanding. She then walked away, leaving him to contemplate what they should do next.

* * *

Over dinner, Gemma and Bart were engaging in discussion. They had agreed that Bart would stay at Farley Manor for most of the Christmas break, but that Bart would spend the first day with his family before the Farleys came to collect him.

Gemma was less than thrilled to discover that Bart had earlier agreed Professor Dumbledore that the wizened mage would initially apparate Bart to and from his house, for she wanted to spend as much time with Bart as possible. But it was no big deal, because the wizened mage didn't know that Bart would be spending most of the break with the Farleys, so he couldn't interfere with her plans for the young prodigy.

Speaking of the Farleys, Gemma was busy laying down some ground rules for when Bart visited them.

"Now Bart, pure-bloods in Britain are not like Muggleborns in America. We have different traditions. You are to address my father as 'sir' and my mother as 'madam' unless they give you permission to do otherwise. You are to kiss my mother's hand when she offers it. Also - "

"Don't swear and don't use the words 'cool', 'dude', 'awesome', 'no problemo', and 'man', I get it", Bart recited in a bored drone.

Gemma looked surprised that Bart correctly guessed her next words. Worried that she would press him further, Bart changed the subject.

"Hey Gemma, do you know who Nicolas Flamel is?"

Gemma gave him a quizzical expression before responding, "Hmmm…I'm sure I've heard that name from _somewhere_, but I'm not exactly sure. Maybe my father will know. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just that Hagrid mentioned his name and so I was curious. I just want to know more about the wizarding world", Bart lied.

Gemma scoffed. "Oh, I wouldn't take that big oaf too seriously. Half the time he's drunk, or so I've heard from other pure-bloods. But I'll ask anyway."

Bart smiled gratefully; capitalising on his good mood, Gemma raised a thornier subject.

"Bart – I'm not introducing you as Bart Simpson. I'm introducing you as Bart Steward."

Bart narrowed his eyes suspiciously upon hearing that. "Why?"

Gemma sighed. "Well…it's just that I've never been friends with a Muggleborn before. As I told you earlier, associating with Muggleborns isn't usually socially acceptable in a house like Slytherin. My parents were both from Slytherin, so while I obviously have nothing against Muggleborns, I'm not sure how they would deal with me being friends with one.

Steward is the name of an old pureblood family. They may or may not be extinct, but no English pure-blood family would know."

Bart frowned but nonetheless understood Gemma's pragmatism and nodded.

Gemma smiled. Of course, she was not completely honest about why she wanted him to pose as a Steward, but why bother being so when a few artful omissions could get your message across?

* * *

Departure day finally came, much to Bart's relief. Naturally, Draco couldn't resist taunting Bart one last time while they were in the dormitory.

"Enjoy going back to your filthy hovel, Simpson!" the blond crowed.

"Dude, the further away I am from you, the better", Bart briskly replied as he set off for the headmaster's office. As he did so, he passed Daphne, Tracey and Theo, who subtly nodded at him as he passed.

Before he knew it, he found himself, with Balthazar in his cage, walking through a hitherto unknown town with said headmaster. Bart was struck by how picturesque it looked, with its perfectly aligned set of lovingly-crafted wooden cottages and shops, replete with snowy rooftops.

"What is this place?" enquired Bart.

"This town, young Bart, is called Hogsmeade." As Bart sniggered at the name 'Hogsmeade', the older wizard continued. "It's the only all-wizarding settlement in Britain - "

"Santa doesn't live here, does he?" jokingly asked Bart, chuckling as he reminisced about the time when he exposed Homer's Santa disguise in the mall.

Professor Dumbledore chortled at this. "Not that I know of, young Bart, but maybe he does appear at around this time", the man responded with typical ambiguity, eyes amusedly twinkling all the while. He then continued his explanation.

"You'll be allowed to visit from third year onwards, provided that you have a signed permission slip. When you visit, you may be particularly interested in Zonko's Joke Shop", to which Bart erupted in a grin most devious, "and Honeydukes, which contains some of the finest chocolates and sweets around. Speaking of chocolates…"

The wizened headmaster gave him a package of Honeydukes Best Chocolate. "I do trust that you will enjoy this package of chocolates. Truly, I've never tasted such a sumptuous variety in my many years on this mortal coil."

Bart's face erupted in joy for the briefest of moments, before reverting back to his typically cool, laid-back countenance. He then began to feel a hot surge of guilt for not getting the headmaster anything, but tried to assuage it by responding with the most genuine display of humility he had shown for the longest time. "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore. You didn't have to do this."

"The pleasure is all mine, young Bart. By no means should you feel the need to reciprocate. Gifts are meant to be freely given," the headmaster replied indulgently.

In truth, much like when he had given Bart some of his own money before the bratty boy entered Hogwarts, the headmaster had gifted Bart the chocolates in order to place himself in Bart's figurative good graces, thus making it easier to monitor the troubled young fellow. The headmaster was most happy that this ploy appeared to be working like a charm.

It was with that happy thought that he apparated Bart and Balthazar back to the young lad's residence, bade him farewell and told him he would be back for him when the break ended, before promptly leaving.

* * *

When he stumbled inside, he was surprised to find only Homer there.

"Hey Homer, where are Mum and Lisa?" Bart asked.

"Eh, Lisa's taken your mother to protest the logging of some forest. They won't be back for a few days."

Bart sniggered. "Ah Lisa. When will she ever learn?" he rhetorically asked, before laughing and exchanging high-fives with his father.

"So how was pig-pimples?"

"Hogwarts."

"Whatever."

"It was pretty cool. We get to transform staff, plus someone blew up three of the common rooms. So I read that you guys got rid of that Incest Spuckler dude."

"Yeah, we palmed him off onto Ned Flanders. Him and his Christian virtue", Homer sneered, as they both laughed again.

"Well, hopefully he'll be too busy to try and exorcise my 'demon'. Anyway, I heard you drunkenly stumbled upon a drug smuggling ring which was operating out of the ladies room in Moe's."

"Yeah, I'm not sure if your mother told you the full story, but I accidentally stumbled into the room and smashed my head on the wall. When I did, that part of the wall crumbled and revealed a hidden compartment with lots of packages with white stuff. I took one home and Lisa saw it. She told me that it was cocaine. I wanted to try and sell it but she told me to tell the FBI."

"The Female Breast Inspectors? Did you become one yourself?"

Homer laughed. "I wish! Anyway, they recovered the rest of the drugs."

"Didn't you tell me that Moe was arrested and then released without charge because he didn't know about the drugs and had never done cocaine?"

"Yeah. By the way, they gave me some money. Your mother and Lisa took some before I could spend it."

"I'm guessing you spent yours on the window bars?"

"And armoured doors – you can't be too careful these days", Homer noted.

"That's surprisingly well thought-out for you."

"Thanks, son", Homer replied, missing the back-handed compliment. "Your mother stored your share of the money somewhere. We were going to give it to you when you came back, but…"

"Lisa, I know", Bart groaned. Nonetheless, he was very relieved that Homer didn't just steal Bart's share. Clearly he had learnt from the last time he did that.

With that happy discovery in mind, Bart ate a harmonious steak dinner with his father. Bart was heartened that, despite his myriad faults, the Simpson patriarch could still do right by his children.

* * *

Less than 24 hours later, a teenage girl and an older man apparated in front of Bart's house. Gemma had been worried that the townspeople would try and attack them with so-called 'shotguns' if they wore wizarding robes, so they were wearing what they thought was Muggle attire. Gemma's was similar to that she wore on her train, with her tight green jumper and dark denims accentuating her already reasonably voluptuous figure. However, her bespectacled, lanky father, Jake, resembled a 1960s college professor. Not only did he have his dark brown hair parted, but he also covered his collared shirt and tie with a tweed jacket.

Both Farleys distastefully took in their surroundings, with Jake in particular looking as if he had just ventured inside a Brazilian favela.

"Merlin's beard, Gemma. How is it possible that a Steward can live in this…slum?"

"He's living with stepparents by the name of Simpson", Gemma lied.

"Stepparents?"

"From what I understand, they are Muggle parents who aren't related to the children they live with", Gemma explained, having researched this topic while constructing her little ruse.

"Muggles have some most unusual customs, clearly", Jake mused.

Gemma simply nodded as they advanced towards Bart's house, as they both took in the various toys and tools strewn across the yard.

"Do Muggles also not have house elves? This house is a dilapidated shack", Jake stated.

Gemma's lips creased into a grimace. She knew full well how depressing Bart's life in this town was, but she didn't realise that he was living in such filthy conditions. Maybe one day with his family was one day too many.

"Father, let me handle this", Gemma insisted. After Jake nodded, Gemma knocking on the door with all the tentativeness of somebody defusing a bomb.

However, despite expecting the very worst, not even in her nastiest nightmares could she have imagined the sight that awaited her when the door opened - a grossly overweight, balding man who was shamelessly showing off all his blubber. And worst of all…

_Merlin's beard, is he wearing UNDERPANTS ON HIS HEAD?_ a horrified Gemma thought. Forget one day; one _hour _with this man was obviously too many for Bart to endure, family or no. Jake was similarly slack-jawed at the sight.

_What an absolute barbarian_, he thought, but nonetheless spoke up on behalf of his dumbstruck daughter.

"Greetings, good sir, we've come to collect Bart."

At this, Homer's expression lightened. "Oh you guys must be the Fart-leys! Just hold on, Bart will be right down."

"Did…did he just call us the Fart-leys?" Jake asked in shock.

"No father, I'm sure you misheard", Gemma lied, trying to hide her own anger and shock.

In a jiffy, Bart was standing in front of Gemma, with hair slicked back as he was immaculately dressed in his school robes, with his school bag hoisted behind him. For good measure, Balthazar was perched on his shoulder.

"Hello Gemma. How lovely to see you again", Bart unctuously began.

Gemma gave him one of her trademark dazzling smiles before replying, "You too, Bart. Father, meet Bartholomew Steward. Bart, meet my father, Jacob."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir. Please call me Bart", the boy said as he shook hands with the older man, straining to be polite.

"The pleasure is all mine, Bart. You may call me Jake. It is good to see that you are well-groomed." _Despite your clearly unfortunate upbringing._

"Thank you, Jake. You look well yourself." _For someone starring in The Graduate._

"Thank you. Now let us depart this place". _Den of misery that it is. _

Before Bart knew it, he was a world away from 742 Evergreen Terrace and in front of wrought-iron gates leading into an apparent mansion. The road to the mansion was seemingly constructed from the finest thin, white bricks.

_Wow! This is like Mr. Burns' place!_ Bart thought, as he absorbed his lavish surroundings. The mansion itself looked most stately indeed, with a brick exterior, large rounded windows, oaken doors, and an immaculate terracotta-tiled roof, topped off with a superlative white finish. At each side of the steps leading up to the main door stood one statue of a stone guard. The garden looked inimitably immaculate, with a pretty tiered water fountain in the middle.

To Bart's astonishment, the iron then contorted into a face.

"Welcome back, Master Farley. Please step inside with your guests."

As Jake led Gemma and Bart into the mansion, Bart saw a blue-white pied peacock strutting about in the distance.

_Wow, they even keep a peacock as a pet! This is awesome!_

When Jake reached the door, it also contorted into a face and offered a similar greeting to the gate, before letting them all inside.

They then stepped into a hallway which was decorated with highly expensive woven axminster carpet. The walls were adorned with moving portraits, whom Bart assumed were past relatives of renown. The ceiling hung rather low and was painted with a neat wooden furnish.

"This place is a-I mean, terrific", exulted Bart as Gemma warningly glared at him.

"Yes, I was hoping that you would like our humble little abode", Jake replied as a woman came into the room, dressed in green acromantula silk robes.

This woman was unmistakeably Gemma's mother, with her statuesque stature, high cheekbones, wavy hair and dark brown eyes that betrayed so much intensity. The only differences were that she was a touch shorter, had a slightly longer nose and had hair a shade lighter.

"Ah, so this must be the young Steward lad. I am Isabella Farley, but you may call me Bella. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance", she said in an aristocratic accent before extending a delicate, slender, manicured hand out.

Bart took her hand and kissed it, touching as little of her hand as possible in case she had cooties. "It is a pleasure to meet you too ma-I mean, _madam_."

Bella smiled warmly. "Well, it seems that you are well versed in the art of manners", she replied, deliberately ignoring his slip. It was clear that the boy had a troubled upbringing after all, from what Gemma wrote – she could not expect perfection from him.

Suddenly she called out, "Sleazy!"

A house-elf suddenly appeared. His ears were alert, his eyes were full of mischief and his expression was a suitably sleazy smirk. Not surprisingly, Bart found him very creepy.

"Hey mistress Bella baby, what's the word?" the elf purred – or well, tried to purr, but his squeaky voice just made him sound hilarious. Bart was already close to wetting his pants with laughter.

Bella herself tried not to laugh. "Sleazy, please take our guest's possessions up to his room."

"And maybe later Sleazy can do something special for his mistress?" Sleazy asked as he raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"Yeah, leave."

"OK mistress Bella baby. Sleazy will be getting favours outside", he finished with a wink, before taking Bart's possessions and disappearing.

"Ummm…what did he mean by _favours_?" Bart rhetorically asked.

Gemma shivered in revulsion. "You don't want to know."

* * *

Some days later, Gemma and Bart were busy practising spells in the manor's duelling room. By this time, Bart had finally mastered the _Ventus _and _Relashio _jinxes, both verbally and non-verbally, but had difficulty landing the basic _Stupefy_.

"Gemma, why do you keep a house elf that's so…well, sleazy? Wouldn't that turn guests off?"

"No, because as I explained earlier, pure-blood wizards often see house elves as beasts of burden and so don't take them seriously. If anything, Sleazy amuses them. However, mother makes sure that he gets his…favours…outside instead of hitting on any female guests.

Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you some questions."

"Shoot."

"What's your favourite band?"

"I don't know. Maybe J. Geils Band, Sonic Youth, The Smashing Pumpkins, or Spinal Tap. And you?"

_Must be Muggle bands_, she thought to herself before responding, "The Weird Sisters. My parents like Celestina Warbeck as well."

_Celestina Warbeck? I'm sure that Ollie-dude mentioned her_, Bart thought before Gemma shook him out of his thoughts.

"So…what's your favourite play?"

"I'm not really into plays. I prefer movies."

"Movies?"

"Yeah. They're kind of like…moving pictures that go for more than 90 minutes. My favourites are Jaws and the first three Star Wars movies."

"I see. OK, just one more question."

"Ask away", Bart replied in relaxation.

"Tell me Bart…did you _really _think that I wouldn't figure out that _you_ were involved in blowing up those common rooms?"

Bart's blood instantly ran cold as his eyes widened.

She knew.

Before he could even move, he was lying on the floor, as rigid as a board, with Gemma standing over him.

She looked as frightening as ever; her teeth were bared, her eyes were ablaze with fury and her wand was pointed straight – at – him.

_This is going to suck_.

"Bart, you had more reason than anyone to frame the Gryffindors and draw attention away from yourself. Rumour was that one of them turned you into a troll, plus you were the subject of vicious rumours about what went on with the troll.

I also noticed how nervous you became when I told you that the Weasley twins were apparently getting expelled, and how quickly you walked out of the Great Hall, as if you were in a hurry to go somewhere. Then by the next week, the Weasley twins were still at the school. It is pretty unusual for expelled students to be attending the school, isn't it?

I put two and two together and realised that you went to tell a teacher or maybe the headmaster that they were innocent. But you could only have known if you were involved yourself.

Now, I did warn you that if you attacked a teacher again, I would have to resort to harsher measures to make my words of warning about you risking expulsion sink in. But this is just as bad. So, I'm going to now use those harsher measures.

_Oh crap_, Bart thought before Gemma cast a silencing spell on him and uttered "Gaseous!"

Instantly, the boy felt as if his insides were ablaze, such was the pain he felt. _This _must have been the searing gas pain spell Gemma alluded to.

Gemma's expression held a tinge of sympathy for the boy, but otherwise she seemed grimly determined to mete out her punishment.

She then applied various counter-spells on him before putting her face close to his.

"Now you listen to me, Bart. You will _not _do that again. Do I make myself clear?" Gemma hissed, her tone conveying a deliberate menace.

Bart could do nothing but nod fearfully.

* * *

Finally, Christmas Day arrived. At dinnertime, Bart and the Farleys sat together and enjoyed a sumptuous roast turkey meal, replete with carrots, peas and potatoes.

_Man, for an elf that likes getting lots of some on the side, Sleazy's a pretty damn good cook_, Bart thought before reflecting on the day's earlier events.

That morning, they had all gathered by the Farley tree. To Bart's surprise, they didn't call it a Christmas tree, but a Yule tree, since the name Christmas reminded them of Christians who had violently murdered a couple of their ancestors. This tree made the Simpson one look like the cheap, sorry, shoddy little creation that it was, being almost as tall as the ceiling and decorated with so many shiny baubles that Bart thought that staring at it would render him forever blind.

They had then exchanged gifts. Jake firstly provided Bart with a wand holster, a gift so practical that obviously most wizards would never even contemplate buying one. Bella then provided him with a black acromantula silk robe, of which Bart was initially not terribly enthused. However, he changed his mind after feeling the material.

"Wow! This feels really nice! Thanks, Bella!" Bart gushed, provoking the older lady into cracking a rare smile.

However, the most surprising gift was Gemma's. When he unwrapped it, he was surprised to find a vinyl copy of _Goo _by Sonic Youth.

Bart felt gratitude burst out of his heart and soon enough, his mouth.

"Thank you, Gemma. I'll listen to this lots."

Gemma gave him a stunning smile. "I know you will."

"Now I have a little something for you four", Bart said as he gave Bella, Jake and Gemma one package of Honeydukes Best Chocolate. After wheedling information about the _Geminio _curse out of Jake, including how to cast the charm, it had taken Bart countless hours of painful work to convert his copy into three others. Mishaps he had endured included having melted copies, exploded copies and even copies with chocolates shaped like condoms. However, his perseverance paid off and the proof was in the reactions of the Farleys.

"Bart…you didn't have to get us anything", Jake replied. _Because we thought that you couldn't afford to._

"It's alright", Bart replied with feigned bashfulness, hoping for – and getting – a positive reaction, as Gemma hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

_Wow. I wasn't expecting _that, Bart thought, as he became bashful for real, blushing like a bride. Clearly though, Gemma and Bart had just broken new ground in their relationship, which pleased the ever-infatuated young mage.

* * *

After the formalities of handing over presents were dispensed with, Bart and Gemma had listened to _Kool Thing _using a rune-powered vinyl player in her room, which compared to Bart's room in _La Casa de Los Simpsons_ positively exuded luxury. Epitomising this luxury was a four-poster bed placed smack bang in the centre, with green acromantula silk sheets and blankets. However, the room's luxuriousness couldn't distract from the fact that Gemma clearly didn't like the song.

"This song is so loud, so abrasive."

"That's the point, Gemma", Bart drolly replied.

"Also, what's the woman prattling on about in the middle? Male white corporate oppression? What's _that_ meant to mean?"

"Oh, that's just trash."

"Yes. Total trash. Let me show you what I like listening to." With that, she put on a Weird Sisters record.

Bart was quite unprepared for what followed. The song was played at an appropriately brisk tempo, and took on an orthodox verse-chorus form, but it was otherwise quite different from the rock music that he, or even his father, listened to.

For example, he was used to the guitar dominating the music, but here it was just a side dish in a proverbial smorgasbord of instruments. He heard bagpipes, a cello and even a lute solo. Additionally, the time signature lacked orthodoxy due to the distinct classical influences within the song, not to mention the need to accommodate every instrument.

"Wow. That was weird", Bart uttered after the song concluded.

"Very", Gemma contentedly replied.

* * *

Later that night, Bart took out his piece of enchanted parchment and sent a message to Harry. Their initial exchanges of pleasantries weren't out of the ordinary, but some of the gifts that Harry received certainly were.

"I got a wooden flute from Hagrid", wrote Harry.

"That's weird."

"Quite. My aunt and uncle, who I live with by the way, also gave me 50 pence."

_Dear god, they make Homer look like an attentive, caring parent. _"That's pathetic."

"For them, it's friendly."

Bart sat there momentarily, but before he could respond, Harry wrote again.

"I received an invisibility cloak from someone. I don't know who."

"An invisibility cloak? That sounds pretty awesome. Are you going to use it to sneak around at night-time?"

"Certainly." At this Bart chuckled, but Harry wrote again. "By the way, Ron and I aren't talking to each other at the moment. We…had a big fight and some nasty things were said."

Feeling a strong sense of foreboding, Bart asked, "About what?"

"You."

Bart wasn't too surprised to hear this. Ever since the boat journey, Ron had at best treated him with suspicion. He tried to reassure Harry.

"Maybe he'll come around. If he doesn't, he's not worth worrying about."

"Yeah, I know", Harry wrote, but Bart felt that he was trying to convince himself of his words.

"You find anything about Nicolas Flamel?"

"No. You?"

"Nah. I'll tell you if I do."

"OK. Merry Christmas."

"You too, dude."

* * *

Finally, the day before Bart was to return to his house, Gemma came into his room, which while being a guest room was scarcely less luxurious than her own, with a spring in her step. After doing so, she gave Bart the news he was waiting to hear.

"Bart. Father has asked around and has discovered who Nicolas Flamel is through one of his older potioneers."

Bart shot bolt upright and waited with anticipation. "Who?"

"He's an alchemist who once partnered with Dumbledore. Apparently, though his alchemy work, he created the Philosopher's Stone, which turns metal into gold, and produces the Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker immortal. So basically Flamel and his wife are centuries old. I hope that helps."

After she left Bart just sat there, slack-jawed.

_Immortality? Metal into gold? I'm going to find this Philosopher's Stone and use it! Hold on…that dog was guarding a package. The Stone must be inside! But should I use Harry to get to it?_

Bart hesitated momentarily. He felt a little bad about taking advantage of his friendship with Harry like that– but that stone was just too awesome to pass up! Screw it, he was getting it even if he had to use Harry to do so.

He quickly whipped out his parchment and informed Harry of what he knew about the Philosopher's Stone. When he did, Harry made a startling admission.

"To be honest Bart, I don't know what I would do with the Philosopher's Stone. I'm not interested in being immortal, and I have enough money already."

This answer surprised Bart.

_What kind of person would pass up making gold out of metal, or being immortal? Never mind, if he doesn't want it, I'll take it_, Bart thought evilly. Harry then wrote something else.

"You know, I found this mirror that shows your deepest desire. Do you what I apparently want more than anything else?"

"What?"

"My family."

Bart found that poignant. He felt bitter about his family at times, particularly his father and his occasional abusiveness. However, he couldn't imagine life without them, nor could he imagine relatives treating him with such contempt that a 50 pence present would be considered _friendly_. Was it really right for him to use Harry to steal the Philosopher's Stone?

After a moment, he reasoned that yes, yes it was. But he couldn't let Harry know that – yet.

"Well, you'll always have me as a friend", replied Bart, lost as to what else he could say.

"Thank you Bart."

Bart lay back contentedly. Spending Christmas with a rich family in a luxurious house, eating a delicious meal, receiving good presents, having a very attractive girl sleeping near him, and finding out that gold and immortality were within his grasp? Yes indeed, for Bart this was truly the best Christmas break ever.

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Twelve**

Apologies again; I've been busy lately.

Homer stole Bart's money in 'Barting Over'.

RE Sonic Youth/The Smashing Pumpkins, see 'Homerpalooza'. RE J. Geils Band, see 'The Boys of Bummer' (awful episode). RE Spinal Tap, see 'The Otto Show'.

Although it makes her look more like an all-knowing Mary Sue, it is more realistic for Gemma to figure out the Bart was behind the attacks, rather than Hermione, simply because Gemma's older and therefore has more developed powers of perception.

bauers374: 1) I didn't think the Statute of Secrecy really applied to pre-school age kids because they don't have full control over their magic, hence why Tom Riddle wasn't pinged, 2) Slytherin's probably the most suitable house for Bart, 3) Loser's Lurch is a play on Loser's Lurgy, 4) thanks for the comments!


	13. Book 1: Tonight's The Night

**Chapter Thirteen**

Much to Bart's chagrin, all good things had to come to an end and he soon found himself sitting in his History of Magic class, having long since tuned out Binns' droning. Instead, he was thinking back to the last day of the Christmas break, which he saw out in the Simpson abode.

* * *

To his utter non-surprise, as soon as he strode through the door, Marge locked him into a vice-like hug and showered him with kisses, while Lisa sniggered at his obvious discomfiture.

"Oh, my special little guy! I'm so glad that you're all right!"

_OK, this is what I _don't _miss about Mum…_

Hearing Lisa's chuckles, as soon as Marge was finished he turned to her and irritably asked, "So Lisa, how was your little crusade against those _evil _loggers?"

"Oh, I'd like to think that the contribution of Mum and myself helped to stop the logging", Lisa smugly replied.

Right on cue, as if God was personally playing a practical joke on Lisa, Kent Brockman delivered this line, "Today, the Rich Texan's Logging Company will commence logging of Springfield National Forest…"

Lisa's expression, in equal parts heartbroken and angered, was a priceless sight for both Bart and Homer, who chuckled at the futility of Lisa's endeavours. Marge, meanwhile, was simply looking irritated – after all, this was not the first time that Lisa had snookered her into some pointless environmental endeavour.

"You can't stop progress, Lis", Bart taunted.

Lisa then turned around, teeth bared as if she was just about ready to pounce and devour him. Instead, Bart felt a million pus-filled boils painfully erupting out of his body like volcanos. Never one to forgo laughing at another person's misfortune, Homer himself erupted with laughter at the sight, while Marge frowned.

Bart made to curse Lisa in retaliation, but then Dumbledore's words of warning about performing magic outside Hogwarts floated into his mind. Instead, he relied on a tried-and-tested standby; complaining to his mother.

"Mu-um! Lisa cursed me!"

"Lisa, remove the curse, apologise to Bart and go to your room. Bart, apologise to Lisa for making fun of her efforts to protect the environment."

_Sure, I can fake an apology_. "Lisa, I'm sorry for making fun of your efforts to stop the logging of that forest."

With teeth still gritted, and looking for all the world as if she wanted to butcher Bart, Lisa removed the hex and, taking a deep breath, tersely apologised before skulking slowly up to her room.

* * *

Things only improved for Bart after his little triumph over his overachieving sibling, as that evening, Marge came into his room to give him something he had so eagerly been waiting for.

"Sweetie, I have something for you", Marge replied, handing him a bag full of notes. "Consider this your present from the Simpson family."

At this, Bart embraced his mother, who reciprocated in kind. Her expression very quickly became firm, however.

"Now, I want you to go and apologise to Lisa. For _real_ this time."

Bart looked as if he had just been glove-slapped. "How did you…"

Marge indulgently tapped her nose and replied, "A mother always knows."

At that, Bart sighed, took a deep breath and made his way to Lisa's room. Maybe Daphne had a point – perhaps he wasn't as cunning as he needed to be.

* * *

When Bart slipped into Lisa's room, she was clearly expressing herself through her soulful saxophone solo, as he had done not long after that time he had incinerated her Thanksgiving centrepiece. Bart wondered why he would do that; after all, he had apologised for embarrassing her. Unless…

"Hey Lis?" Bart tentatively enquired.

Lisa then turned to face her older brother. Bart had not expected that her face would be firm in its anger, nor did he expect the tear streaks arcing down her face like a network of roads.

_She saw through my apology. That's why she was so unhappy about apologising to me. Must get that from Mum_. _So what should I do so she doesn't curse me?_

With a rare display of caution, he put his hands up and closed his eyes, awaiting another hex.

After a moment most long, Lisa huskily replied, her voice betraying her previous crying, "Why did you mock me like that, Bart?"

Bart sighed. "We've spoken about this before, Lis. I just, like…I don't know…think before I act, because I love some action.

So I'm doing what you told me to do after I destroyed your centrepiece – look deep down inside myself and find a spot – something I don't want to be there – because I feel bad about mocking your environmental efforts."

At this, Lisa's heart leapt. He remembered how to say sorry from that time on the Simpson roof! In response, she gave a smile so warm that it lit up both the room and Bart's heart.

When she did that, Bart found that he could now conclude his agonising search for this 'spot' of Lisa's conception.

He then gave a genuinely heartfelt apology. "I'm really sorry for mocking your environmental activism, Lisa. Spending several days protesting against logging, then finding out that they'll start logging the forest anyway, must have been really awful. I would have felt awful too." _If I gave a crap about the environment_.

At that, Lisa pounced on him and enveloped him in a bone-crunching hug, kissing his left cheek all the while. After the initial shock, he hugged her in return.

_I'm pretty sure Lisa doesn't have cooties, so I should be alright_.

After a long silence, Lisa broke the silence.

"So…what's it like being friends with Harry Potter?"

Bart stared at her in bemusement before replying, "You read about him in one of those Ilvermorny textbooks, didn't you?"

"Of course. I wanted to know how many of those first-year spells I can perform wandless."

_Of course. Wants to upstage me at Hogwarts too_, Bart thought, resenting how her sister was the more intelligent and accomplished of them both. He couldn't be certain, but it wouldn't have surprised Bart if Lisa was actually the more talented wizard. After all, he had never been able to transfigure an elephant into a pot-plant, much less turn it _back_.

"How've you been going?"

"I mastered about 1/4 of the first-year spells, wandlessly, over the summer break. I haven't had much time to practice because of other commitments, but I learn them when I can. Right now, I'm probably 1/3 done."

Bart's jaw could have fallen through the floor, such was his shock – a 9-year old girl, obtaining wandless mastery of school magic? Not even _he_ attempted that, nor was he sure that he could have at Lisa's age or in her position.

He was then shaken out of his shock by Lisa yelling "BART!" in his face.

Still disoriented, croaked the boy "WHAT?"

Concern showing in her big eyes, Lisa asked him if she was OK before pressing him about Harry.

"Well, he's a cool dude. It's pretty cool being around a celebrity because you share a bit of it, even though we're in different houses."

_Ah Bart, always the attention seeker_. To her surprise, her older brother then frowned, as if he was hiding something…uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, in fact, that only fidelity seemed to be preventing him from spilling the metaphorical beans.

"Bart. What's wrong?"

"Nothing", Bart dismissively waving his hand as he said this.

"Is it about Harry?"

Bart whipped his neck towards her with lightning-speed and gave her a stare that brooked no mercy should she tell anyone else.

Ever-perceptive, Lisa picked up on Bart's implied threat and, realising what might be at stake, softly replied, "I promise I won't tell anyone, Bart."

Hesitating momentarily, Bart replied, "I-I think that his family hates him."

"Didn't his family die?"

"He told me that he lives with his No-Maj Aunt and Uncle. They gave him 50 pence for a Christmas present. Harry even told me they were being _friendly_."

Lisa's mouth was askew with horror. "Wow. They make Dad - "

"Look like Father of the Year, I know. So if that's them being _friendly_, what are they like when they're _unfriendly_?"

Lisa frowned deeply. "Did he show signs of being abused?"

"His No-Maj clothes looked old and they didn't fit him properly", Bart replied with an uncharacteristic frown.

Lisa nodded. "He's been neglected at the very least. Bart, I'll keep your promise, but if you learn anything else about Harry's home life, please tell me."

Bart grinned sleazily. "This isn't about getting close to the Boy-Who-Lived is it, Lisa?"

"Of course not", Lisa casually replied, but her true feelings were given away by the merest hint of a blush.

"Whatever you say, lil' sis. Better snap him up before the competition does."

Lisa giggled as Bart grabbed, separated and enchanted two pieces of paper before giving one to Lisa.

"Lis, if you need anything, please write on this. I'll see the message you write. Make sure you write neatly."

"Is this - "

"An enchanted two-way note. Very advanced magic; little girls like you shouldn't try learning it."

"I'm sure I could learn it faster than you did."

"Yeah, but not _better_."

"What does that even _mean_?" Lisa shouted, throwing her arms up melodramatically.

"I know you are, but what am I?"

"Get out! GET OUT!" Lisa finally shouted, firmly pointing to the door as she stood bolt upright. Bart complied, but not before chuckling at how he had successfully gotten under his sister's skin.

* * *

Finally, Bart brought his mind back to the present. In truth, his time since coming back from Hogwarts had been relatively uneventful. Neither Harry nor Hermione had been very demonstrative with him, while Ron kept throwing Bart murderous glares. It was as if he blamed the mischievous mage, rather than his own intransigence, for his rift with Harry, a rift signified by their no longer partnering each other in Potions, nor sitting next to each other in the Great Hall. For his part, Bart responded to Ron's hostility with cheeky waves and winks, which apparently angered the red-headed boy further.

_Well, it's your fault that you and Harry aren't talking._

To his relief, he noticed that his head of house had laid off him a tad since he had returned to Hogwarts, instead directing his ire towards Harry.

_Did Harry steal one of your hands, Captain Hook? _Bart thought after watching the hook-nosed man lay into Harry for not properly answering one of the man's questions.

However, he still found making mischief difficult, for Gemma watched him like a hawk. Indeed, in late February she veritably dragged him to the Quidditch game between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Bart fully expected to dislike the game, haunted as he was by his misadventure with 'Mandy'. However, he found the game surprisingly entertaining, what with Bludgers smashing into players, Quaffles regularly flying into goal hoops and players whizzing around at impressive speeds.

_Hmm…hitting bludgers at players looks pretty cool. But maybe I'd get more attention if I was scoring goals like a Chaser or if I caught the snitch like a Seeker. Seraphinus told me that whoever catches the Snitch first usually wins, so I'd get plenty of attention that way. _

_Yeah…I'd want to be a Chaser or Seeker. Seeker's probably better. _

It was obvious even to his novice self that Slytherin would eventually win the game; their attacks on goal were more synchronised, they used a wider variety of tactics and they were incredibly adept at disrupting Ravenclaw's rhythm through tactical fouls, which while coughing up a couple of penalty goals also continually forced Ravenclaw to try and restart their attacks. Moreover, Gemma told him that Higgs had been Slytherin's Seeker for some years, whereas the Ravenclaw Seeker appeared to be a pretty yet young Asian girl.

_She's going to get burrrrrrrnt_, Bart thought.

Sure enough, Higgs quickly caught the Snitch. The Slytherins erupted in cheering and gave him a standing ovation, as if he had successfully conducted an orchestral rendition. For his part, Bart grinned at the sight, as in his mind's eye he pictured the entire crowd cheering for him after catching the Snitch via an absolutely stupendous barrel-roll.

_Yeah, I'll be a Seeker. That'll be the ticket – having the crowd eat out of my hand after yet another display of _Bartesque _brilliance. _

The resultant celebration was something to behold. Higgs was feted as a hero in the common room, as he was showered with beverages and confetti.

_Yeah…that seems like the life_, Bart thought, looking on in envy. It was then that Gemma elbowed him in the ribs, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Bart – look at Malfoy."

Having done so, he noted that the boisterous blond had an expression on his face that he had never seen him sport before – a combination of envy and determination.

"He wants to get on the team too, doesn't he?" asked Bart. "Maybe to replace Higgs?"

"Most likely. As I've told you, the Malfoys have no ethics whatsoever. His father will get him on the Quidditch team if Draco asks for his help, by hook or by crook."

"You mean by bribing whats-his-face?"

"Flint? Yes. Which is why I want you to make the team."

Bart looked as if he had just been slapped by a wet fish. "A-wha?"

"You heard me."

"This is about trying to keep Drain-o from the team, isn't it?"

"Hopefully, but maybe not, if his father gives over enough Galleons. Do you remember what happened the last time Malfoy was able to exercise serious influence over other Slytherins?"

Bart shuddered at the memory of his gang-bashing before responding, having finally cottoned on to Gemma's train of thought. "Yeah, I do. Are you saying that being on the Quidditch team will make me too influential for our good friend Draco to attack without losing cred?"

Gemma scowled at Bart's overly casual vernacular but nonetheless replied, "Yes, I am. Plus, I'm sure that Flint doesn't like his players getting injured. I don't think he'll react well if Malfoy tries to injure you while you're on the team."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Bart asked in wonderment.

Gemma gave the young lad a tight smile before responding, "Experience and observation, Bart."

Bart nodded in understanding, but his answer still betrayed lingering hesitance about trying out.

"Gemma, you know what happened the last time I got on a broom, right?"

"Yes, I know. I'll tell you what, I'll teach you over the summer holidays, OK? As I told you, I was a useful Chaser, so why don't I train you to be one?"

_Chaser, huh? Seeker would be better, but I guess that being a Chaser will do._ "Deal."

* * *

That night, Bart pulled out a parchment with a green 'X' on the top, to better distinguish it from the ones used to communicate with Harry and Gemma, and sent Lisa a message.

"Hey Lis, what's been happening? It's been a little while."

"Hey Bart. Well, Dad briefly became a stuntman like Lance Murdock, but he stopped when his doctor said he'd die if he crashed again. As for Incest Spuckler, Ned Flanders apparently moved him on to foster care."

Bart chuckled. "Ah Homer, always doing something stupid."

"Yeah. So what have you been doing?"

Bart briefly gave her a rundown of what was happening, after which she asked yet more questions.

"Why do you think Professor Snape dislikes Harry so much?"

"He probably kicked his dog – or maybe stole one of his hands – or maybe Harry's dad banged Snape's ex-girlfriend or something."

"Hmmm…Quidditch sounds like an interesting game. Do you think I'd make a good keeper?"

"Well you were a pretty great ice hockey keeper for a while, so I don't see why not."

"Thanks Bart. I think I'll try out once I get to Hogwarts."

"Yeah OK, just don't steal my spotlight."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Bart."

Bart smiled before wishing her goodnight and heading down to the dormitory. Yes, compared to Harry, his home life was pretty good.

* * *

A few weeks later, Bart found himself back in the duelling arena, panting with hands on knees after yet another gruelling session. Truth be told, after he had finally verbally and non-verbally mastered the _Stupefy _spell with Gemma's assistance, he had spent the remaining time by himself attempting to conjure a _wakizashi_, or short sword. He had reasoned that it would be useful in close quarters combat, but for him it was mostly about looking cool.

As with the _tantō_, Bart had to endure the frustrating sight of conjured swords that were missing a handle, half a blade and even in one case a sword that felt blunter than one of Lisa's pencils. He even fell unconscious from exhaustion at one point.

_Man, I'm not getting anywhere casting this spell_, Bart thought, mind fogged by enervation. However, to his surprise he found that he was mistaken. Before him was a fully-formed _wakizashi_. It was adorned with a black handle. When Bart unsheathed the 45 cm blade, he could tell that it was razor-sharp to the touch.

_Oh man, this is so cool_, Bart thought as he grinned appreciatively at his newest, and sharpest, creation, all exhaustion having since vanished, having been replaced by elation.

So caught up was he in his reverie that Bart took a moment to realise that his parchment was heating up. Sure enough, Bart whipped it out to find a message from Harry, who seemed from afar to have become more cheerful since Gryffindor had overcome Hufflepuff by the tightest of margins.

"Bart, I think that Snape's trying to steal the Stone."

Bart paused for a moment before asking, "Why?"

"Well, Snape asked Quirrell if he had figured out how to get past the three-headed dog, and he also asked him to figure out where his loyalties lie."

"Well, he's either working with Quirrell to steal the Stone, or he thinks that Quirrell is trying to steal it."

"Or he's blackmailing Quirrell into trying to steal it for him."

Bart sat and thought for a moment. Truth be told, he was unsure what to think. His head of house _was_ an absolute bastard, but he seemed to be nothing but loyal to Headmaster Dumbledore. Then again, the man _was _a Slytherin – a Slytherin could certainly be cunning enough to act as a double-agent until the time was right. With that, he sent a message back.

"Don't trust either of them."

"You really think that Quirrell is working with Snape?"

"Maybe. Quirrell's stuttering and stupidity might be an act – to manipulate other people into thinking that he's not a threat."

_Besides, I can't let either of them get the Stone – it's mine!_

After a moment, Harry wrote back. "OK Bart – we'll keep an eye on both of them."

"Good."

Bart sat and smiled. It was good to have Harry on his side in his quest to grab the Philosopher's Stone – after all, weren't friends meant to help each other?

* * *

Bart would have liked the weeks that followed to arouse more enjoyment. Not only did he not discover anything new from watching Professors Quirrell and Snape, but exams were drawing closer. As such, not only was Gemma revising for her O.W.L. exams with ever more regularity, but Daphne and, to his surprise, Hermione were badgering him to join in their study groups.

"Hey Daphne, you know our exams are ten weeks away, right?" Bart rhetorically asked, after Tracey and she had yet again confronted him about the issue after their History of Magic class.

"Yes, Bart", Daphne replied with an impatient roll of her eyes, "but our teachers are giving us so much homework that we may not have the chance to sit down and study properly later."

"So what?"

Daphne sighed. "Bart, you need to pass your exams to make it to second year."

Bart blanched at hearing that. He knew what it was like to stare down the barrel of repeating a grade, and frankly it was _not _an experience he wished to repeat.

Seeing his discomfort, Daphne decided to apply the finishing touch. "Besides, do you really want _Malfoy _to get better grades than you?"

Bart narrowed his eyes in determination. "Let's go", he commanded, leading them to the library as they smiled at each other triumphantly.

Upon entrance, Bart, Daphne and Tracey sat down at a table most varnished. Just after they commenced their studies, Bart looked up and realised that Hagrid was in the library, with Harry and Hermione blissfully unaware as they were sitting at the table opposite them.

_What the hell is Hagrid doing here?_

He then quickly stood up.

"Just looking for the toilet", Bart lied as he calmly walked behind a bookshelf and began transfiguring.

"Harry, Hagrid's in front of you – he's trying to hide himself behind a bookshelf!"

As he pocketed the parchment and turned around, Daphne's voice whispered into his ear, such that he could feel her scented breath.

"Bart, you're still not cunning enough. I knew you weren't looking for the toilet."

Bart's heart stopped and his blood turned into _ice_.

_Oh crap._

Having read Bart's message, the pretty blond deduced whom Bart was interacting with. "Harry? As in Harry Potter? Don't tell me that you've been associating with Gryffindors, Bart", she said in a dangerous voice.

"And if I have?"

"Bart, if news of this emerges, then Slytherins, particularly the purebloods, will call you a Mudblood traitor. Being a Muggleborn Slytherin is bad enough, but as a Mudblood traitor you can look forward to not only having no friends within Slytherin, otherwise they'd be tainted, but also regular attacks, particularly from the purebloods."

"Daphne, I'm pretty talented. You saw me wipe the floor with Drain-o in that duel, right?"

"Yes, I know. But that doesn't mean you can take on 10 or more Slytherins at a time. Or watch your back at every moment.

And Farley will also abandon you – oh come on Bart, I have eyes and ears too you know", Daphne admonished as Bart's eyes widened in surprise.

She mulled over whether or not she should tell Bart that Gemma was using him. Gemma would still be needed to help take care of Draco before she graduated. On the other hand, she had come to see Bart as her friend and felt that in principle he had a right to know of the older prefect's manipulations.

After some thought, she decided to hold off. She didn't need to get on Gemma's bad side; maybe she could tell Bart the truth after the older girl graduated.

It was then that Bart replied, "OK Daphne, I'll be more careful about talking to Gryffindors in future. Just don't tell anyone, OK? I'll be with you in a moment."

"I won't, Bart. Just don't be too long", Daphne replied as she regally walked back to her table.

The drama of his interaction with Daphne had taken Bart's mind from how the parchment had been heating up constantly. Finally, frantically, he pulled it out.

* * *

A short time earlier, as they were exiting the library, Harry wrote to Bart using his enchanted parchment.

"Bart, Hagrid was hiding something behind his back. We think that 'something' was a dragon egg, because Hermione realised that he was researching dragons. He wants Hermione and me to meet him in his hut afterwards."

Harry's message met with no response, which concerned the myopic mage.

He wrote Bart's name several times – still, no response.

"Something's happened to Bart, Hermione."

Hermione pondered thoughtfully. "Hmmmm…I saw that blond Slytherin girl he was with – Greengrass, I think – go behind the bookshelf after him. I think she found out about the parchment."

Harry's face turned a sickly – and ironic - shade of green. "How much do you think this Greengrass girl knows?"

Hermione sighed as she shrugged. "I really don't know. We won't interact with him until he clarifies the matter with us."

Harry nodded, but he was nonetheless still worried about Bart. What exactly _had_ been said and done behind that bookshelf?

* * *

Sometime later, after a stultifying study session which caused his mind to drift off to…well, practically everywhere else, Bart found himself in the duelling arena. After sending a message to Harry, he was surprised to see him quickly write back.

"Bart, does the Greengrass girl know about this parchment?"

Bart sighed before writing back. "Yeah, she does."

"Damn."

"She promised not to tell anyone. Besides, I'm definitely alone right now."

"OK. All the professors, and a few other wizards belonging to the Order of the Phoenix or something, have performed enchantments to protect the Philosopher's Stone."

"Even Snape and Quirrell?"

"Yes. Hagrid also has a dragon egg in his hut. It's a Norwegian Ridgeback."

"Wow, that is so cool!"

"Yeah, cool. He said he got it off a stranger in a pub."

"Stranger in a pub…do you know anything else?"

"No; I'll write if anything comes up."

With that, their little chat concluded, as Bart got to work perfecting a spell that he thought could be a genuine game-changer on the right occasion.

* * *

Some weeks later, just as Transfiguration class was about to commence, Draco appeared in the doorway, his usually immaculate hair looking slightly ragged as he was sweating profusely. One could tell that he had been running.

"Mr. Malfoy? Where have you been?"

"Sorry Professor, I urgently had to go to the toilet."

_Liar_, Bart thought.

"Well, come in and sit down."

With a smug smirk, the blond did so. Not long afterwards, the parchment in Bart's pocket began to heat up.

_Harry's contacting me _now_? Ay carumba, talk about bad timing!_

Bart quickly stuck his hand up. "Professor, can I go to the toilet?"

Daphne gave him a very dubious look but said nothing. _Au contraire_, the middle-aged witch replied with an indulgent smile, "Not until you have transformed that cup in front of you into a bird, Mr. Simpson."

In a trice, the cup in front of Bart transformed into a magnificent bald eagle.

"There's your bird, complete with the American touch. Now can I please go?"

After Bart finished his sentence, the bird started pecking him in the face.

"Ow! Get it off! Get it off!" Bart yelled, as the class roared in laughter, with Draco and his posse once again laughing louder than anyone. Even the Professor herself looked amused.

"Very good, Mr. Simpson", she said after vanishing the bird. "You may leave. While you're at it, you may wish to see Madam Pomfrey – dare I say that, even though it may appear to the contrary, I do not want you to die from blood less from that cut to your face", to which the class laughed again.

After Bart left for Madam Pomfrey, he asked himself, _Why do birds keep attacking me?_

* * *

Once he had been healed, he had secured himself in a nearby toilet before reading the piece of parchment.

"Bart, the dragon has hatched. In Hagrid's wooden hut. Malfoy saw it happen. You'll have to try and stop him from doing something about it. He could get Hagrid, Hermione and me in lots of trouble."

Showing his one-track mind, Bart eagerly sent a message asking, "The dragon hatched? What did it look like?"

"Like a black, crumpled umbrella. Look, that's not important. You have to stop Malfoy!"

_Not important? It's a goddamn dragon; of course it's important!_ Bart thought, but he sent something very different back.

"OK, will do."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

With that, Bart quickly left the toilet and wandered around aimlessly, thinking about what to do. Obviously blasting Draco wouldn't accomplish anything, while he wasn't confident that he could force the blond to shut up about the whole affair – the kid was a consummate loudmouth, after all.

Finally, Bart figured that he had no choice but to tell Headmaster Dumbledore. He was not normally one to trust or confide in authority figures, especially one with an alleged history as chequered as the headmaster's, but he was quite indulgent and kindly as far as authority figures went. He didn't really care if Draco or Hagrid were removed from Hogwarts, but he hoped that when push came to shove, the elderly mage would be lenient on Harry.

With that, he bolted towards the Headmaster's Office. Unfortunately, a voice rang out as he passed a corridor.

"Stop right there."

Bart stopped and turned around. He didn't like what he saw – a certain red-headed prefect, with wand in hand. With a scowl, he regarded the prefect.

"Weasley."

Weasley furrowed his brow in both recognition and contempt.

"Simpson. What are you doing out of class?"

"I don't know. What are _you _doing out of class?" Bart asked, voice _oozing_ with irritation.

"Simpson, I am a prefect. This is my spare period. I'm authorised to be out of class. You are _not_."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Talk to me with that potty mouth again and I _will_ give you a detention. Now get to class."

"OK. Hey Weasley."

"_What?_" the older boy growled.

"Have you heard the story about the Emperor with no clothes?"

"What are you - " the boy began, only to find himself stark naked.

"ARGH! What did you do to me?" Weasley yelled as he covered his privates.

"Nothing. Weasley, you shouldn't expose yourself like that; we're not all gay like you", Bart taunted.

"I-I-A teacher's going to hear about this, Simpson!" Weasley threatened as he bolted, hands on his privates all the while, while Bart cackled evilly.

_I don't know why I didn't get around to pranking him earlier_, Bart thought as he headed to the Headmaster's Office, still quivering with laughter.

When he entered, he found the headmaster sitting and contemplating heaven knows what.

"Ah, young Bart. What can I do for you on this lovely day?" Headmaster Dumbledore began.

"Well, I found out from…other people…that Hagrid has a dragon inside his wooden hut. You'll probably want him to get rid of it before he gets in trouble or burns himself alive in his own hut."

The headmaster looked somewhat resigned – Bart got the impression that this wasn't the first time that Hagrid had brought a dangerous creature into the school grounds.

"Yes, you're right Bart. Parents would not take kindly to having a dragon reside near their students. I'll have it removed from the premises promptly. Thank you for informing me, and take 5 points for Slytherin."

Bart smiled gratefully. "No problem, sir. By the way, what's in that forest near Hagrid's Hut?"

"Many, many dangerous creatures. That's why it's forbidden, Bart. You're not thinking of exploring the forest, I trust?"

"Absolutely not, sir", Bart lied. _Well, that's one more thing on my to-do list, then._

"I'm very glad to hear it. Well, have a good day."

"You too, sir", Bart replied as he ventured out. As ever, he kept a neutral countenance, but inside he was laughing like a madman.

_Ah, I love this school. So much to see and do…well, I'd better write Harry._

After entering an abandoned classroom and cloaking himself, he sent Harry a message.

"Harry, the dragon's being removed from Hogwarts tonight. If Mal-formed accuses you or Hermione of anything, just lie like hell. He won't be able to prove anything."

"Thanks Bart."

"No problem."

* * *

A few days later, he was cruising down the corridor during his free period when a lady with an easily recognisable Scottish accent called out to him, voice tinged with anger.

"Mr. Simpson!"

_I guess I don't need to ask her what she wants_, Bart thought, having already resigned himself to a detention. _But it was worth it just to see the look on Weasley's face!_

When Professor McGonagall came up to him, she looked angrier at Bart than she had ever been. Usually she was stern but strangely indulgent of Bart's smart mouth and trickery; now she was a picture of perfect rage, with a red face, a furrowed brow and multitudes of facial lines which combined to form a massive frown.

"Come with me", she tersely commanded.

Bart tentatively followed, hoping that he hadn't earnt himself an expulsion.

When they reached her office, Bart found that it had a large fireplace and windows overlooking the Quidditch pitch. Quickly, his Transfiguration teacher pointed to a recliner beside the fireplace.

"Sit", she spat.

Bart hastily complied as she sat down in the other recliner.

"Mr. Simpson, Mr. Weasley came up and told me an intriguing story."

"And that was?" Bart asked innocently.

"Mr. Simpson, do _not _be coy with me. You know full well that Mr. Weasley's clothes suddenly vanished after you both exchanged a few words!"

"Suddenly vanished? I've never heard of anything like that. How could that possibly have happened?"

"Because you _made _it happen."

"But I'm only a first-year, Professor", Bart replied in his most innocent tone. Unfortunately, it didn't work.

"Yes, a first-year with a history of vanishing other people's clothes!" the Professor replied, spit flying all the while.

_Damn. I forgot that I was a legend among wizarding teachers. _

"Mr. Simpson, for your disgraceful behaviour towards a prefect, I will take 50 points from Slytherin and you will be serving detention! In the Forbidden Forest! Tonight! With Hagrid!"

At that, Bart suddenly cheered up. Outwardly he put on his best 'fear face' but deep inside he was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

_So tonight's the night, huh? Oh, this is just _too _perfect. Even in detention I can still do what I wanted to do in the first place. I just hope the Forbidden Forest is worth it…_

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Thirteen**

A pretty condensed, wide-ranging chapter here. Truth be told, much of what went on in the Philosopher's Stone was unnecessary to repeat. As ever, I hope that all 5 of my readers enjoy it (LOL).


	14. Book 1: From Forests to Trapdoors

**Chapter Fourteen**

That evening, Bart and Gemma ate dinner together in the Great Hall. Looking around, Bart noticed a few things. Firstly, the giant hourglass that recorded Slytherin's house points had quite a few emeralds removed. Secondly, he saw the Weasley twins snicker and give him a thumbs up. For losing Slytherin points or for pranking their pretentious elder brother, Bart had no idea. Thirdly, throughout the meal the eldest Weasley gave him a stare that looked far more murderous than officious. Bart gave him a smartass wave in response, which merely intensified his stare. If looks could kill, Bart would have died minutes ago.

_Guess he won't be joining any nudist colonies anytime soon_, Bart thought with a smirk.

Bart then turned his gaze to the teaching staff. Headmaster Dumbledore resembled his usual serene self, but Professors McGonagall and Snape were casting stony glares in his direction.

_OK, no surprise that Captain Hook would be pissed at me. And he can't even punish me with one of his detentions this time! _Bart thought with undiluted glee.

However, what really surprised him was the shrewd, calculating stare Professor Quirrell gave him, as if he had just discovered something unexpected about Bart.

_Yeah, there's definitely more to him than meets the eye._

Turning his head back to the Gryffindor table, he saw Ron throwing forlorn glances towards Harry and Hermione. For her part, Hermione gave Bart a piercing look before whispering into Harry's ear. As she did so, he started chuckling and shaking his head.

_They know._

Unfortunately for Bart, they weren't the only ones.

"You know Bart, I noticed earlier today that Slytherin's hourglass was emptier than before."

"And?"

"Well, a few days ago Weasley came into the Prefect's Bathroom in a right state. Do you know what state he was in?"

Bart yet again feigned innocence, this time by shrugging.

"He was as naked as he was on the day he was born."

"OK…I mean, I assume you're straight, but what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, a certain boy told me on the train that he once made his teacher's clothes disappear."

_Oh crap._

"So…you think that I made Weasley's clothes disappear?"

Gemma gave Bart a smug smile.

"I don't _think _it Bart, I _know _it."

Bart paused for a moment, as a feeling of profound dread overtook him. For her part, Gemma seemed to be savouring his shock. Finally, he plucked up the courage to speak, or rather, squeak.

"You…you're not going to punish me again, are you?"

Gemma chuckled softly. "No, not this time. Weasley's not a teacher. Plus, he's an absolute prat. I actually started laughing when I realised what you had done to him. But next time – try not to lose Slytherin any points."

Bart smiled broadly as relief flooded through his system. "I promise."

"Good boy."

* * *

When the evening grew older, Bart found himself at Filch's side.

_Oh man, he's like Quasimodo_, Bart thought, taking in the man's hunched back.

However, even without said hunch-back, Filch was no male model. His face was horribly pasty and pouchy. Additionally, even in the night Bart could make out his bulging eyes and the veins on his sunken cheeks. He also had thinning grey hair, quivery jawls and knobbly hands.

"Follow me, Simpson – and _don't_ run off", he commanded, as his skinny ankles shuffled off towards the Forbidden Forest. Bart reluctantly complied. As they were walking, the cretinous caretaker regaled Bart with tales about how Hogwarts' caretakers used to hang students from the ceiling by the wrists for a few days. However, he didn't stop there.

"They also used to use thumbscrews, you know – nothing like the threat of not being able to write properly for a few days to bring belligerent brats like you in line. They also had this device called an 'iron maiden' – being forced to stand straight for hours on end really did set students straight!"

He rambled on and on about such punishments, until finally Bart thought, _Man, I've heard just about enough of this. He sounds like an evil Grampa! Hell, he makes Groundskeeper Willie look well-adjusted!_

"You're a sadistic freak, you know that?" Bart angrily asked.

"If I'm sadistic, that just serves brats like you right for misbehaving. Now if you call me that again Simpson, I'll double your detention."

_O have mercy on me, o great one_, Bart mockingly thought. Ahead, Bart could see the lighted windows of what must have been Hagrid's hut.

This _is Hagrid's place? Ay carumba. It makes my place look like a goddamn castle._

"Filch, are you there? Took you long enough", the bearded man called out. _You old git._

"Of course I am!" Filch replied as Hagrid, who was sporting a crossbow and arrows on his shoulder, came into view, with a large boarhound trailing him. _You big oaf. _"The Simpson brat is also here!"

_A crossbow? Cooooooool_, Bart thought.

Hagrid regarded Bart with a smile when he saw him. "How're you doing, Bart? I hope Filch hasn't been too rough on you?"

"No, sir", Bart responded as Filch's anger at Hagrid's remark made itself known.

"Rough on him? _Rough on him?_ Hagrid, students need discipline, and Simpson more than anyone!"

"Not your type of discipline, they don't. Now _go_", Hagrid commanded, an order punctuated by his dog's bark.

Filch glared at Hagrid, after which he sourly noted, "I'll be back for the brat at dawn." He then shuffled away, muttering threats under his breath.

"Sorry, can you speak up there Filch? I couldn't hear you", Hagrid said in his perplexing accent.

Filch turned to glare at him, before walking back to the castle in silence.

"Git", Hagrid spat.

"I get the feeling that you don't like him very much", Bart noted.

"I don't. Stinking Squib. I don't know why Professor Dumbledore ever made him caretaker. By the way Bart, this is Fang", Hagrid replied, as Fang came up for a pat, which Bart gladly provided.

"Did you just call him a _squid_?"

"Nah, a Squib. Someone born without magic."

"So let me get this straight. Headmaster Dumbledore hired someone without magic to clean a massive magic-filled castle?" Bart asked, head spinning in disbelief.

"Yeah. Must have taken pity on him because he was a Squib."

"Well, he is pretty pathetic", Bart replied, as they both shared a hearty laugh at Filch's expense.

"I think I'm going to enjoy working with you, Bart. You know, some of the stories I've heard about you from the teachers – you put the Weasley twins to shame!"

"I do my best", Bart humbly noted, eyelashes fluttering all the while.

Hagrid smiled at the young lad.

"Well, just so long as I'm not being pranked, whatever you do is all right with me. Now follow me into the forest. It's dangerous in there, so do what I say."

_Good. I have him eating out of the palm of my hand. Now let's see what this forest has in store for me_, Bart thought as he followed Hagrid into the forest. Soon enough, they encountered a silver-blue substance on the ground that the giant groundskeeper quickly identified as unicorn blood.

_Wow, unicorns are a thing? Awesome! _Bart thought, but he quickly found himself concerned after Hagrid informed him that something in the forest had been killing unicorns.

All of a sudden, as Bart and Hagrid walked past a mossy tree stump, Hagrid, hearing something resembling a cloak brushing nearby dead leaves, suddenly shouted words of warning and hoisted Bart behind a towering oak tree.

After Hagrid readied his crossbow and again shouted warning words, an indescribable creature came into view. It appeared to be a being with a human face, including red hair and a beard, but with a horse's posterior.

_What the hell is that thing? _Bart thought with equal parts excitement and awe.

"Ah Ronin, it's you", Hagrid said as he shook Ronin's hand and exchanged pleasantries, his voice clearly being tinged with relief. Hagrid then nodded at Bart. "Ronin, meet Bart Simpson. He's a student. Bart, meet Ronin. He's a centaur."

_Ah, so _that's_ what he is. _"Nice to meet you, sir", Bart greeted, as he came out from behind the tree to shake the centaur's hand.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, young foal. I trust you have been learning about the planets and the stars in the castle in which we centaurs do not venture?" Ronin asked.

"I sure have, sir."

"Very good. I trust then, that you are aware that Mercury has been unusually bright lately?"

_What's he blabbing on about? _"Yes, sir", Bart unctuously replied.

"Very good."

"Now Ronin, have you seen an injured or dead unicorn anywhere?" Hagrid asked.

"I see many things, both in the stars and on the earth, of which I cannot perceive or understand."

"Ummm…how about that?"

"This forest is filled with secrets. That could well be one."

Hagrid appeared to be on the verge of tearing his beard out over the centaur's ambiguity. This feeling was not helped by a second, wilder-looking, black-haired and bodied centaur called Bane, nor a third centaur with white-blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes and a palomino body named Firenze, who when asked about the unicorn were similarly ambiguous.

Finally, Hagrid walked away, with Bart in tow.

"Well, that was pointless", Bart noted irritably. "Are they allergic to straight answers or something?"

"Yeah, they are. They're more interested in the stars than the earth."

"They seem to be so up themselves that I'm surprised that they can even see where they're going", Bart observed, as Hagrid chuckled.

"You got that right. Now, about that brushing sound we heard before. I'd bet you that wasn't a centaur. I've never heard that sound before, actually, so I'm sure that's what been killing the unicorns."

_Sounds interesting_, Bart thought as Hagrid suddenly led him in a completely different direction to before. Over time, the path became so obscured that Bart marvelled at Hagrid's ability to understand where he was going – no doubt the groundskeeper had traversed this path before. As the travelled, the unicorn blood increased in volume.

"The unicorn's nearby, isn't it?" Bart asked.

"Looks like it", Hagrid replied as a clearing, replete with a bright shimmering white light on the ground, came into view.

"It's a unicorn", Hagrid sombrely said, as Bart took in its beautiful, pearly-white mane and long, slender but askew legs.

"It's dead, isn't it?" Bart asked, feeling overwhelmed by sorrow.

"Yeah."

Bart bowed his head, as if providing one minute of silence, but then quickly jerked it back up as he heard a rustling from the bush. Suddenly, a hooded figure emerged from the shadows. Bart could only stare in morbid fascination as the figure started drinking the unicorn's blood.

_Whoa, a real-life vampire!_

However, Bart was mistaken. When the figure raised its head, it treated both Bart and Hagrid to a smile fit for the depths of hell, blood oozing out of its mouth all the while.

For the first time since Sideshow Bob last tried to kill him, Bart felt a mounting sense of fear; a feeling only amplified when the figure swiftly advanced on them both. Luckily, he still possessed enough control over himself to cast a non-verbal _Fumos _charm at the figure.

Just after he did so, Hagrid picked both Fang and Bart up, before bolting towards the hut as fast as his legs could carry him. All the while, spells were setting trees ablaze or alternately blasting them apart, creating an unholy inferno in Hagrid's wake as he ran for the trio's lives.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he couldn't quite run fast enough – the inferno was on the verge of swallowing the trio whole when all of a sudden it was blocked by what appeared to be an invisible wall. Nonetheless, the sheer heat that emitted from the flames could have rendered Bart unconscious from dehydration, such was the extent to which he sweated.

Luckily, he was able to stay conscious for long enough to see who had cast the spell – none other than Headmaster Dumbledore, with wand pointed at the forest. Bart saw no twinkling of the eyes; only a stony, determined expression. Finally, he turned the flames to water, which flooded the area and wet Bart's robes. Not that he cared one iota – he lapped up as much as he could and was only stopped by the sound of a sneering, aristocratic voice.

"Sending students into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid? I can't say that's very safe practice, Dumbledore. I don't know whether they'd be in more danger from the forest or from Hagrid."

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy!" Hagrid furiously growled.

_Malfoy? _Bart thought in shock before slowly turning his head around. There stood a man with pale skin, a pointed face, long blond hair and grey eyes that brooked no warmth.

_Drain-o's dad_, Bart realised, surprise quickly being replaced by contempt.

"Now that's not very polite, Hagrid", mockingly chided Mr. Malfoy. "I do hope you don't speak to Hogwarts staff or students like that?"

"I can assure you that he doesn't", reassured the headmaster. "He's just had a very trying time of things."

"Yes, it must be very trying being half-giant or whatever he is. Anyway, Draco informed me that Hagrid was hiding a dragon in this very hut."

_Too bad it's already gone_, Bart thought with a smirk.

"Dragon? Why, are you sure that Draco wasn't seeing things? I know of no dragon on these premises. Do you, Hagrid?"

"No, sir", Hagrid replied with feigned earnest, causing Bart's smirk to grow ever wider.

"However, we can inspect his hut, if that will give you piece of mind", the headmaster soothingly offered.

Mr. Malfoy scowled but nonetheless gave the wizened mage a curt nod before they both entered the hut.

"Malfoy's a few days too late", gloated Hagrid to himself.

_I know._

After a few minutes, the two men came out. The headmaster appeared as untroubled as ever, while Mr. Malfoy's ashen-faced appearance brought Bart to the verge of laughter.

"You sent the dragon away, didn't you?" Mr. Malfoy spat.

"I'm respectfully unsure what you mean, Lucius", Headmaster Dumbledore replied.

Lucius Malfoy seethed in impotent rage but eventually calmed down.

"Very well, Dumbledore. But if I see a student's life being endangered like this again, I _will _take action in my capacity as the chairman of Hogwarts' Board of Governors", Lucius threatened before angrily striding off, cloak billowing behind him.

_Good god, what a jackass_, Bart thought as the headmaster helped him up.

"I trust that you're all right, young Bart?" the elderly mage asked.

"Abbb-so-lutely. Hagrid knows that forest like the back of his hand", Bart replied, causing Hagrid to beam in gratitude.

Bart smiled at Hagrid's reaction._ You never know when having a massive giant for a friend will come in handy._

"I would expect as much. Hagrid has been groundskeeper here for many decades. Now, let me walk you up to the castle. Hagrid, thank you for taking care of Bart."

"Anytime, Professor Dumbledore. See you later, Bart."

"See you, Hagrid", Bart wearily responded as the headmaster made the trek back up with him to the castle.

"Now Bart, was there anything you would like to discuss?" the headmaster asked.

"Actually Headmaster Dumbledore, there is. Hagrid and I saw something drinking a unicorn's blood in the forest."

For the first time that night, the headmaster looked faintly disturbed.

"Murdering a creature as gentle and pure as a unicorn and then drinking its blood is unspeakably unconscionable, Bart. If the unicorn's blood so much as touches your lips, you will be saved from death, but you will also be doomed to live nothing more than the merest shadow of a full life. Only a profound fear of death, or the expectation that you could regain full power and strength afterwards, could possess one to drink a unicorn's blood."

Bart then had an epiphany as the words 'full power' echoed through his head. _The Elixir of Life. That thing back there obviously wants the Stone so it can make it. _"I see."

They walked back to the entrance to Bart's common room in silence, at which point Bart trooped down to the dormitory and cast the usual spells before dropping onto his bed in exhaustion. His final thoughts before he did so were, _I have to tell Harry._

* * *

Late next evening he did exactly that, transfiguring a message sitting on his dormitory's toilet.

"Harry, you'll never guess what happened last night."

"What?"

"Well, firstly, I saw Drain-o's father search Hagrid's hut for the dragon – he couldn't find it!"

He could just picture Harry laughing it up on the other end. "What do you think he's going to do to his son when he next sees him?"

"Hopefully he gives him a good old-fashioned spanking for lying to Daddy."

"Yeah, he deserves it. Speaking of which, I think that Percy still wants to spank you for what you did to him. The rest of the Gryffindors have been laughing at him over it and he still looks really pissed off."

"Doesn't he always look like that?"

"I mean, more than normal. Anyway, did anything else happen?"

"We ran into these centaurs. One kept going on about how Mercury was unusually bright."

"Maybe he's giving us a tip for our Astronomy exam."

"Even if it wasn't a tip, I'm so writing it in the exam. Anyway, I also followed Hagrid into the Forbidden Forest as part of my detention and saw something out of a vampire movie."

"Which was?"

"This hooded figure, drinking a unicorn's blood."

"Wow. That's really disgusting."

"Yeah. Dumbledore later told me that the figure was desperate not to die, but that they expected to regain all their strength soon.

I think that this figure is after the Stone, because it produces the Elixir of Life and drinking it will make you immortal. Do you know who could be after it?"

Harry's answer almost made Bart's eyebrows shoot up into the ceiling.

"Voldemort."

"…do you want to repeat that?"

"Voldemort. Hagrid told me when he first met me that Voldemort wasn't quite dead – and I don't think that Voldemort's happy with simply not being dead."

Bart was utterly gobsmacked at this. "Do…you believe Hagrid?"

"Yeah, I do. It all makes sense. Snape or Quirrell want the Stone for Voldemort, and Voldemort's waiting in the forest."

"You'd think that being filthy rich was more important." _Of course, I want to be filthy rich _and _immortal._

"Not if Voldemort can still kill them if they don't give him what he wants."

"So, the idea is basically that Snape or Quirrell give Mouldy Cheese the Stone, he gets his strength back and then gets revenge on you?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"We have to get that stone as soon as possible, then." _Otherwise Snape or Quirrell will get it before me. _

"Yeah. We'll tip off the teachers first."

_No way; they won't let me keep the Stone for myself. _"No! It might be too late by the time we convince them. Snape or Quirrell might be going for the Stone right now!"

After a pause, Harry wrote back. "You're right. I'd rather die than let either one of them take it. I'll grab the invisibility cloak and hide Hermione and me underneath. Meet me by the door leading to that third-floor corridor with Fluffy. You can cloak yourself, can't you?"

"Sure can."

"Good. I'll see you there."

Bart smiled contentedly. _Don't you love it when a plan comes together? _He then cloaked and silenced himself before leaving the bathroom, opening his trunk and taking out his _wakizashi_. After lovingly inspecting the sheathed sword, he pressed it blade-down against the right side of his robes and, as instructed by _Buddhist Combat Magic_, successfully applied a Sticking Charm.

_Bitchin'. Now to get me that Stone!_

With that, he hurtled through the Common Room and towards the third-floor.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were just about to envelop themselves under Harry's invisibility cloak, only to have an unexpected voice call out to them.

"Harry! Hermione! Where are you two going?"

Harry spun around with a gasp. As he did so, he saw a certain tall, gangly, freckled boy with a long nose emerge from the shadows. Of all the things that Harry expected to confront tonight, Ron was _not _one of them.

"R-Ron? Why are you even talking to us?" Harry asked, ardently trying to hide his shock.

"Well, I've really missed hanging out with you guys, so I've wanted to talk things over with you guys for a little while. I thought that now that we're all alone, this is the right time. Anyway, do you mind telling me where you're going?"

Harry agonised over whether or not to tell Ron the truth. On the one hand, they had not spoken since they fell out over Bart. On the other hand, Ron had been one of his best friends up until that point. Besides, the more people he could bring along to help thwart Voldemort, the better.

"Do you remember Nicolas Flamel? Well, he created something called the Philospher's Stone. We're going to retrieve it so that Voldemort can't get to it. We think that either Snape or Quirrell could steal it for him at any moment."

"Will Simpson be involved?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, he will be."

Ron frowned deeply. On the one hand, he thought that Bart's prank on Percy was actually pretty funny. However, he just couldn't trust Slytherins, and Bart was no exception. But if Bart _did_ betray Harry, what sort of person would Ron be to allow it to happen, when he could have perhaps stopped it? At any rate, Ron was tired of living in the shadow of his more illustrious brothers. The opportunity to foil Voldemort was his chance to make a name for himself, rather than being known as just another Weasley.

Harry saw Ron hesitate and so tried to coax him into coming along. "Look Ron, I'm not asking you to be friends with Bart, or even like him. I'm only asking you to work together just this once, so we can stop someone evil from throwing the _entire world_ into darkness. If you come along, you'll be every bit as valuable to me as he is. I promise."

Ron gave him a watery smile upon hearing that. His voice became husky and Harry could tell that he was feeling quite emotional. "Do you really mean that, Harry?"

Harry smiled softly. "I do, Ron."

"Then let's go, mate!" Ron exclaimed, lunging towards Harry and locking him in a tight embrace, which Harry returned with a big smile. Hermione, meanwhile, was on the verge of tears at the sight, but her expression quickly hardened when Ron turned to her.

"Hermione…I'm sorry for all the mean things I said about you", Ron admitted, giving her the heartfelt apology she had been waiting for what felt like an eternity to hear. Once he did so, her normally stoic façade cracked like an egg.

"Oh, Ron!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug, which he returned.

"Now let's go", Harry commanded, as he placed his invisibility cloak over the three of them. Suddenly, he felt like that he could take on the world and still come out on top.

* * *

While Harry, Hermione and Ron were busy reconciling, Bart was still dashing towards _that_ door on the third-floor. On the way, he dodged a cackling Peeves and weaved his way around more than one oblivious prefect. However, hopes of a smooth journey were promptly dashed when a certain voice called out after he passed one of countless corridors…

"Who's there? Stop!" the voice commanded.

_Oh crap. Don't tell me it's…_

Unfortunately, it most certainly was whom Bart most feared running into. Before he could dash up the stairs, he heard footsteps behind him before feeling something swoop just over his head.

"Bart?" Gemma questioned.

_Busted! _

Nonetheless, he never stopped running. He couldn't stop now; what if Snape or Quirrell grabbed the Stone as a result of his slowing down? He couldn't let that happen; the Stone was either going to belong to him, or nobody!

Unfortunately, as he went up the stairs, Gemma shouted a warning.

"Bart, get down here, otherwise I'm going to have to force you to come down!"

Naturally, Bart ignored her, calculating that she'd give him a few seconds before opening fire. He was correct; seconds after her order, he saw a flash of red coming towards his side and deflected the stunner with an impeccably performed _Protego_. However, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and could tell that the taller, athletic Gemma was gaining ground.

"Bart, stop this! You can't get away from me! Why are you even out of bed, anyway? If it's really important, maybe I can help you sort it out!"

_You can't help me with this, Gemma_, Bart thought grimly, knowing that she would most likely stop him from taking the Stone for himself.

Just as he thought that, he felt a whooshing sound come up from behind him, compelling him to contort his body as a white spell slammed into the wall. Seeing Gemma advance up the stairs with grim determination, he cast a non-verbal _Fumos_ before running in earnest.

_I hope that stops her_.

In fairness to the young mage, he did buy himself precious seconds. In fact, by the time he got to the designated door, he thought that he had shaken her off, as he finally collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting profusely.

_Well, I should be safe no-OW!_

Before he knew it, he was roughly grabbed by his lapels as he found himself face-to-face with an angry Gemma. Unfortunately, he was still too tired to really fight back.

"Bart! What do you think you are doing by hanging around this door? What do you think you are doing out of bed? I'm going to…"

However, she couldn't finish her sentence as she was hit from behind with a tell-tale white spell. Her body instantly seized up as she fell on her face, rigid as a board.

"Harry!" Bart exclaimed.

"Actually, that spell was from me", Hermione explained as she pulled off the invisibility cloak to reveal herself, Harry and…

"Ron?" Bart asked.

"You have a problem with me being here, Simpson?" Ron snarled, to which Harry gave him a warning look.

_Better not start anything with him right now. _"No, not really", Bart replied. "But I would like a goddamn drink."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out a water bottle from her robes before throwing it to Bart.

"Drink some of that."

"How did…"

"My parents, obviously. Now _drink_."

Bart complied before throwing the bottle back to her. "Ah, that hit the spot. Now let's go and stop Voldemort."

"What about her?" Harry asked, pointing to a paralysed Gemma.

Bart responded by flicking a knut up into the air and transfiguring it into a pair of handcuffs before cuffing Gemma's hands.

_I'm sorry, Gemma; I hope you'll forgive me afterwards. _"Does that answer your question?" Bart smugly asked.

"Yes, it does."

Bart smiled as he wordlessly unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open. Lo and behold, the three-headed dog was still there, looking every bit as eager to rip any intruders into tiny, grisly morsels as it did when they first encountered it.

"Um, Bart…do you know how to get past it?" Harry asked, as the Gryffindor trio were clearly battling with memories of their last chastening encounter with the beast.

"Sure do. Lisa, I mean, _Hermione_, we both need to hit it with a spell at the same time. When I fire a stunner, you'll cast a _Petrificus Totalus_. If that doesn't bring it down, I'll just blast it with more stunners until it falls."

"What if that doesn't work, Simpson?" Ron hissed.

"Oh don't worry – it will", Bart replied in his usual cocksure manner. "You ready, Lis-I mean, _Hermione_?"

The buck-toothed girl glared at him.

"Why do you call me Lisa? We've already discussed this; why do you keep _doing it? _Who _is_ Lisa, anyway?"

"My annoying little sister."

Bart's trolling hardened Hermione's glare as she uttered, "Why you -"

"Can you guys just cast these spells? Like, today if possible?" Ron cut in.

Bart and Hermione rolled their eyes but nonetheless nodded.

"Right then. 3, 2, 1 – now!" Bart ordered, as Hermione and Bart's spells slammed into the Cerberus with frightening force, blasting the brute a couple of metres before sending it into a paralysed, unconscious state.

Harry and Ron broke into spontaneous applause and cheering. Even Hermione's mood improved, as she gave a slight smile.

"Simpson, that was _wicked_! How did you know that would work?" Ron asked.

_That's the first nice thing he's said to me for a hell of a long time_, Bart sourly noted before replying,"Eh, I just guessed. Now, who wants to go down in the hole first?"

Complete silence reigned.

"Ah, what the hell. I'll go", Bart said with typical insouciance as he grasped the rusty metal handle and opened the wooden trapdoor, feeling the merest hint of nerves as he surveyed the apparently bottomless depth of the previously obscured hole.

_Well, I've fallen down a cliff before and survived; hopefully this'll be the same._

"GERONIMO!" he yelled as he jumped.

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Fourteen**

I decided not to write in Hagrid's accent, because IMO it just makes it harder to understand what he's saying.

Bart falls down a cliff in 'Brother from Another Series'.


	15. Book 1: Down in a Hole

**Chapter Fifteen**

As Bart's yell faded into nothingness, Hermione could do nothing but shake her head.

"How in the world is Bart not in Gryffindor? He's even more reckless than Fred and George!" she exclaimed, to nobody in particular.

Ron just rolled his eyes at the thought of Bart being in Gryffindor, while Harry made to follow Bart.

"Uh Harry, are you sure that's a good idea? What if Bart just jumped to his death?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned and glared at her.

"Who cares if he did? Frankly, I'd rather jump to my death than live in a world ruled by Voldemort! What about you, Ron? Would you live in a world ruled by the man who killed my parents and loads of other people, or would you rather take a risk and try to stop him?"

"I'd try and stop him", Ron replied.

"So why don't you want to take the risk, Hermione? Isn't part of being a Gryffindor taking risks and fighting injustice? Bart has shown that students from other houses can do it, so why can't a Gryffindor like you? Do you really want to represent the worst of this school, like Malfoy? Or do you want to represent the best of us, like Bart?"

Ron bristled at the unflattering comparison to Bart but nonetheless narrowed his eyes in determination as he said, "C'mon Harry! We're not letting Simpson upstage us!"

"That's the spirit, Ron. What about you, Hermione?"

Hermione just stood there, suddenly unsure as to what to do.

"OK, Hermione. Think about whether you'd rather live on your knees in front of Voldemort, or die on your feet so that you don't have to."

With that, the two boys lowered themselves into the hole and upon hearing Bart's voice reaching out to them, steadied themselves and jumped.

Hermione stood there for another 30 seconds, pondering her options. She _could_ have run away and alerted a teacher as to what the three boys had done, but she worried about getting in trouble for breaking curfew himself.

Plus, Harry was right – what good _was _it living in a world where Voldemort reigned supreme, especially if she could have done something to try and stop it? Could she live with herself under such circumstances, if indeed she was permitted to live at all?

With refreshing simplicity of mind, she understood that she could not.

She then shouted, "Hold on, you two! I'm coming!" as she stepped over the hole and took a deep breath before jumping into the unknown.

* * *

Previously, Bart had been plummeting with astonishing speed, with his arms outstretched and his hands splayed in a bid to minimise any possible injuries.

_Hey, this is just like skydiving – only with no parachute_, he thought as the bottom – and his possible end – drew closer with each metre, as the cold, unforgiving air rushed past his small frame and towards the opening, which was dimming as each second ticked by.

Finally, he landed on something soft on the ground with an oddly muffled thump.

_Well, that wasn't so bad. _He looked up to the top, which by now was a dim light, and yelled at the top his lungs.

"Hey guys! Jump down; this plant thing will give you a soft landing!"

Before too long, Harry and Ron were sprawled next to their Slytherin ally, with Hermione following some 30 seconds later. Unfortunately, her initial reservations about making the plunge were only reinforced as the plant started wrapping tendrils around the quartet's ankles and legs.

_Feels like snakes are wrapping themselves around me_, Bart thought with some consternation as Hermione shrieked in panic, while Ron and Harry were merely digging themselves even deeper as the plant tightened in response to their strains. _OK, think Bart. How can I get out, and get them out as well, without killing everyone? Oh wait, I know! _

Thinking back to the time when he learnt the Severing Charm, or _Diffindo_, at home, he promptly severed the tendrils which threatened to strangle him into a stupor. He then barrel-rolled on the ground, so that the loose tendrils couldn't reach him, before propping himself up and casting non-verbal _Diffindo _after _Diffindo_. He slashed his wand at different angles, almost as if he was painting a masterwork.

Slowly but surely, mere seconds after Bart had slashed through the tendrils, they split and fell onto the ground, never to harm another soul. Eventually, the Gryffindor trio were surrounded by severed tendrils. As Bart bowed with his usual panache, they broke into spirited applause, as much out of relief as awe.

"Bart, that was incredible!" Harry exclaimed with a smile. "How did you _do _that?"

Bart prepared his response, pouring on the feigned humility in a bid to garner even more praise.

"Well, I just practice a -"

However, before he could finish, Harry tackled him to the ground as several spiky spore-like balls passed through where Bart's body was.

"Whoa! What the hell?" Bart exclaimed.

Harry didn't need to explain himself, however, for mobile vines suddenly shot out of the darkness and tried to grab the two boys. Bart quickly returned the favour by pivoting Harry onto his back and rolling them to safety.

It was at that moment that Hermione pulled Ron away and yelled "_Incendio!_" at the obscured menace. Red and orange flame spewed forth from her wand, making the air veritably _shudder _in response as the menace was enveloped in fire. The result was a truly _magnifique_ display that entranced the boys, as Hermione poured on the fire with grim determination. Eventually, with a simple _Finite Incantatem_, she defused the flames, with the plant already burnt to a cinder.

Harry and Ron clapped while Bart frowned, being reminded of when Lisa upstaged him with her academic and magical heroics.

_Hey, no fair, why does she have to hog the attention? I could have burnt that plant too! _However, to bring attention back onto himself, he decided to say something else.

"There's a stone passageway over there. That must be our ticket out of here. Follow me!" he commanded as he walked through it.

* * *

While all this was happening, Gemma remained on the ground, face-first.

_When I see that little toerag again, I'll make sure that I punish him for his trickery_, Gemma thought angrily. She had never been so incensed; not only had Bart led her up several flights of stairs, but he also seemingly set her up so that someone else – probably another first-year – could hit her from behind. A cheap trick indeed, but one that would be repaid in full as soon as possible.

As she was stewing in her own metaphorical juices, she heard the unmistakable sound of a billowing cloak following heavy footsteps.

_Professor Snape!_ she thought as she started to hum very audibly.

Seemingly lured towards the noise, Professor Snape stopped as he saw her, quickly unlocked the handcuffs on her and brought her out of her paralysed state. She then turned her around and grabbed her arms.

"Miss Farley! What happened here? Why did you come near this door?" he exclaimed, tone uncharacteristically animated as his eyes bugged out.

_This is obviously pretty urgent; I'm not sure I've ever seen him act _this _emotional_, Gemma thought as she responded.

"It was Bart Simpson. I chased him up several flights of stairs and found him near this door. I grabbed him and asked him what he was doing when someone hit me in the back with a _Petrificus Totalus_. Ba-I mean, _Simpson_, then transfigured these contraptions and bound my hands", Gemma finished, pointing to the handcuffs.

It was at the mention of Bart's name that the hook-nosed professor let go of her arms in shock.

_Simpson? Why would he be here unless – oh Merlin's beard, he must know about the Stone! Why else would he be there? Plus, he probably roped in some reckless Gryffindor to help him, like maybe Potter or Weasley – he _was_ talking to those two before his first Potions class. Of all the Slytherins – no, students – I would _not _want to obtain the stone, he would be at the very top! Dumbledore must be notified at once! _

"Miss Farley, come with me", Professor Snape commanded, as they both headed to the Headmaster's Office.

* * *

While Gemma and Professor Snape were rushing to the Headmaster's Office, the quartet were slowly but steadily walking through the stone passageway, with the sound of water trickling down the walls punctuating each footstep.

_This is pretty creepy_, Bart thought. _It's like some horror film, where anything could happen at any moment. Hopefully some creature doesn't come out and attack us, like some dragon or xenomorph or something._

Eventually, they _did _hear something – specifically, a rustling and clinking sound. Moreover, the sound seemed to be aerial, not ground-borne.

Sure enough, when they reached a lit chamber, it was replete with what appeared to be winged creatures, which were scooting around the room like a horde of particularly animated bees.

"Hey guys, look! There's a wooden door there! That must be our way out!" yelled Bart as he rushed forward, completely ignoring the potential threat of the winged creatures above him. He then tried an _Alohomora Duo _on the door. However, the door stubbornly refused to budge.

_What? Why the hell doesn't that spell work? _querulously thought Bart. For once, he was bereft of answers. That sense of powerlessness filled him with a great unease; he was used to solving problems that he encountered, by any means necessary.

Luckily, Harry had been paying more attention to the winged creatures.

"Look! Those winged creatures aren't birds; they're winged keys!"

Bart looked nonplussed. "Winged keys? But there are hundreds of them; they can't _all_ fit in this keyhole."

Hermione smugly smirked, as she understood what to do. "They don't Bart; we just have to find the right key."

Bart scoffed. "Find the right key, huh? Yeah well, what do you think it's shaped like? A Butterfinger? A dildo? An amphibious landing craft?"

Ron, not cottoning onto Bart's sarcasm, answered him after he peered at the door lock. "Well, looking at this keyhole, it would be big, old-fashioned and silver."

"Yeah, thanks for the newsflash, Captain Sarcasm."

"Shut up."

Harry face-palmed in frustration at the two's interplay while Hermione rolled her eyes contemptuously. Nonetheless, she kept her eyes glued to the ceiling, as if she was looking for something, _anything_, which would lead them to the right key. However, Harry spotted it first.

"Look, there! That winged key is bent. That means it must have already been used. Plus it's big and silver, like Ron said."

Ron marvelled at Harry's observational skills. "Wow, Harry. Have you ever thought about trying out for our Quidditch team next year? You'd probably see the Snitch before everybody else."

Harry looked genuinely open to the idea as he put his hand on his chin, but his musings were interrupted by Bart, who said "Enough talk. Let's bring this thing down. Lis-I mean, Hermione, fire the _Petrificus Totalus _into the air. I'll try a _Stupefy_. Harry, Ron, you guys try using the _Wingardium Leviosa _or whatever the hell that spell's called."

The Gryffindor Trio nodded in response as the quartet fired a volley of spells up into the air. Soon enough, the winged key was hurtling towards the ground, having been hit by one of Bart's stunners. Seizing the moment, Harry sprinted towards the key at light speed, dived and caught it in his outstretched hand before throwing it to Ron. Grasping the nettle, Ron grabbed the key and shoved it in the keyhole, before letting the winged key go. They then proceeded to enter.

Unfortunately, the other winged keys chose that moment to attack the quartet, as they hurtled towards the quartet at light speed, keys pointed at them all the while.

_Oh man. Those keys will cut us to bits! I have to do something! _thought Bart.

"You guys go! I'll be with you in a second!"

Harry looked hesitant.

"But -"

"GO!"

Harry nodded meekly as the other Gryffindors slowly backed through the door.

Bart, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes in determination as the keys flew towards him. He _had _to get this next incantation just right – failure to do so would mean curtains for him, if not the others. It was with that knowledge that adrenaline overcame him as he shouted, "_PROTEGO TOTALUM!_"

In that instant, a magnificent translucent shield briefly made itself known before fading, as the winged keys collided with it. They fell to the ground with a resounding clink, as Bart slowly but steadily backed through the door, before quickly closing it and casting another _Protego Totalum_.

In an instant, he heard the sound of many keys colliding with the door, but he was now unworried, as he nonchalantly led the trio along.

_Good thing Gemma taught me that._

"Bart, that was brilliant! What _was_ that spell?" Harry gushed.

"It's a Shield Charm. Protects you from spells and punches. But that's a story for another day. Right now, we have to stop Quirrell or Snape getting the Stone."

_So I can have it instead_, Bart thought evilly.

* * *

While the quartet were busy doing their thing, Gemma was in Headmaster Dumbledore's office, outlining the confrontation between Bart and her.

"So obviously Simpson is aware of the Stone's existence and is trying to obtain it before Quirrell does. He's also roped some students, most likely Gryffindors, into participating in his little adventure. We have to get to him before he obtains the Stone, or gets himself killed!" Professor Snape concluded.

_Bart's been associating with Gryffindors? _Gemma thought with a frown. _I warned him _against _doing that…_

For his part, Headmaster Dumbledore sat back and gave them both a small, tight-lipped smile.

_He knows something that I don't_, thought the hook-nosed professor with annoyance. _It's just like Dumbledore, keeping his secrets close to his chest. _

"Yes, you are most certainly correct, Severus. It is important that we find young Bart before he meets…an unfortunate fate", the aged mage replied, sounding uncharacteristically weary as he finished the last few words. With that, he rose up from his chair and led the two Slytherins out of his office.

_That boy will be the death of me_, Professor Snape thought as he followed the headmaster.

* * *

Back down below, the quartet were appraising a giant chessboard. They were behind the black chessmen, facing an array of faceless white chessmen. It was clear to all concerned that they had to somehow pass these chess pieces to progress. That knowledge seemed to turn Harry and Hermione into nervous wrecks. Indeed, even Bart was a tad unsure of himself. Sure, he knew his way around a chessboard, but he knew full well that he was no match for adult chess players, thinking back to when he was checkmated by three different men at the same time.

However, Ron's expression of supreme confidence, as if for once he was actually in his element, caught Bart completely unawares.

_Ron's actually a good chess player? Well, I'll be damned_, thought Bart as, after whispering a few words to the black knight, the boy confidently turned around and started barking orders at Harry and Hermione, like a field commander marshalling his troops. He then turned to Bart.

"Simpson, do you know how to play chess?"

"I've played a few games in my time."

"Good, then you'll understand why I want you to be the rook."

"Bulldozing the other pieces, am I? That sounds cool."

Ron didn't bother dignifying Bart's response with an answer. Instead, he commenced the game by opening with a Sicilian Defence, as pioneered by the great Bobby Fischer. The redhead executed the move perfectly, taking several white chess pieces in a trice. From there, he simply conducted his pieces like a conductor would his orchestra. For the first time, Bart found himself genuinely impressed by the gangly Gryffindor.

_Wow, how many games has he played? He could have wiped the floor with those three guys I faced, no sweat._

However, Ron's opponent proved itself to be genuinely skilled, not only taking Ron by surprise with a few unorthodox moves, but also behaving with maximum brutality towards Ron's pieces. For example, the white rook bashed a black pawn into a million pieces. This made Ron think.

_Hmmm…my opponent's fighting back. I need to do something…wait, I know! Too bad I have to ask…_

"Hey Simpson, I'm going to lure that pawn out using my bishop. Once I do, take that rook and smash a few pieces before my opponent can do anything."

The expression on Bart's face brightened; he always relished a chance to cause some mayhem.

"Sure thing, man."

Ron grimly nodded, executing the move before nodding at Bart, who set to work with a malicious grin, whipping out his _wakizashi _and slashing the opposing rook into ribbons. He then deftly did the same to several other pieces, causing chaos behind enemy lines.

However, after a momentary lapse of concentration, Ron found himself staring down the white queen, who was eyeing him like a predator would its prey.

"Guys…I have to let the queen take me", Ron stated with a heavy finality.

Harry and Hermione screamed in disapproval, while Bart pondered his options.

_Well, having him out of the way will make it easier for me to grab the Stone at the end. On the other hand, I don't know what else we'll face before I get to grab the Stone. The more people I have on my side, the easier it will be to knock over anything else that's protecting the Stone. _

_But what can I…that's it! Why didn't I think of that earlier?_

It was then that Bart acted, hitting the queen with a Confundus Charm. Instantly, the queen, forgetting which side it was representing, and indeed the rules of chess, jumped over to the white king and swept it out of the arena. Immediately, the chessmen bowed, with some white pawns picking up the queen, which was comically thrashing away, before stepping aside.

The Gryffindor trio stood there slack-jawed.

"What…what just happened?" Ron spluttered.

"I did", Bart boasted as the Gryffindor trio turned to him in shock. "Now let's go. We have a teacher to foil."

_And a Stone for me to grab_, Bart thought, spine tingling with excitement as he thought of himself creating enough gold to last a million lifetimes.

Ron gave Bart a resentful look. _There he goes again, showing us all up. Slytherin git_, he thought in vexation, but nevertheless followed him through the door.

However, as soon as they passed through, the ground shook, with massive thumps punctuating the shaking.

Ron looked petrified, his face going green. "No…no, it can't be."

Unfortunately, it very much could be. Out of the darkness stepped a large, hairy humanoid which made the troll that the quartet previously encountered look positively puny by comparison. As soon as it saw them, it gave them a malicious grin, razor sharp molars protruding all the while, before swinging a massive scythe towards them, forcing them to dive for cover.

As the giant advanced on them, Bart's inventive mind suddenly conjured up an idea. He turned to the Gryffindor trio.

"Distract it", he ordered, before turning left and disappearing. The trio complied by shooting spells at the giant while running right.

"Mmmm...humans", the giant growled as it lumbered after them, obviously savouring the idea of tasting human flesh.

Safely cloaked, Bart smirked as he brandished his _wakizashi _and ran towards the beast's posterior. Just as he reached the brute's Achilles tendon, he dived to his left, but on the way stretched his sword out, slashing the tendon in a perfect half-circle motion. He then landed and rolled on the ground before eventually stopping, with bloodied _wakizashi _outstretched.

He peered up to his right just in time to see the giant fall on its back, creating a massive earthquake that threatened to collapse the room.

Quickly, he de-cloaked himself and frantically ran towards his allies.

"Come on! This place is going to collapse!" he shouted.

After standing in shock, they heeded his words as they ran out of the room, just in time for the ceiling to fall in, reducing the room behind them to complete rubble.

Hermione looked behind them dismally.

"There's no way out!" she shrieked, before turning to Bart and shaking him by the lapels in rage. "Bart! What in the world have you done?"

_Ay carumba! What is it with women shaking me tonight?_ Bart thought before pulling himself away and peering at the ruins, dread filling his insides all the while. He then took a deep breath.

"OK. Don't worry about it. There's got to be some other way out", he replied, more to convince himself than the others. "Now come on – the Stone's still up for grabs."

As they were walking along, a giant suit of armour leapt down and blocked their progress. Obviously this time slashing its Achilles tendon would have no effect. There remained only one solution…

"_Confundo_…you will forget that you are meant to be guarding whatever it is you're meant to be guarding", muttered Bart, face screwed up in concentration. Eventually, the guard stood up and walked off to the side, allowing them to pass through.

"Piece of cake", Bart cockily effused as the quartet finally found themselves staring at a table with seven differently shaped bottles arranged in a line. As soon as they stepped over the threshold between them and the table, black fire sprang up both behind and in front of them.

"We're trapped", said Ron, voice betraying fear. Harry looked similarly unnerved; even Bart was a touch nervous. However, this time Hermione kept her nerve as she read the roll of paper next to the bottles before appraising them.

"Hmmm…if I'm reading this paper correctly, then five of these bottles contain different types of harmful potions. One creates a burning sensation on the insides, one sends you into a near-death state, one chokes you to death, one induces lockjaw and the last one seems to be a poison. That means that two of these bottles have the potion which will allow two of us to safely pass through the black fire."

"Which ones?" Bart asked.

Hermione put her hand on her chin for a moment, lost in thought, before walking over to the two smallest bottles.

"These two – they're of identical size and the potion inside seems to be identical."

_OK, here's my chance_, Bart thought.

The potion then flew into Bart's outstretched hand, after which he sculled the entire contents. As soon as he did so, he felt an icy, frigid sensation overcome his body. Indeed, it was like his veins were turning to ice, as he descended onto his knees and shivered involuntarily.

_Oh man, this feels colder than any winter I've been through!_

Eventually though, the shivering subsided and he stood up before immediately regaining his composure.

"Nothing to it", the mage smoothly stated. "Now who wants to drink the other bottle?"

"Well, it's not like we can use it to go back", Hermione noted, resentfully glaring at Bart all the while, "so one of us may as well accompany you as you go forward."

After a moment, Harry took the bottle and examined it.

"I'll drink it. I owe Voldemort one for killing my parents. Maybe if I defeat Snape or Quirrell, I can stop him from coming back to life for good."

Hermione and Ron looked shocked. The former even stepped forward before talking.

"Harry…are you sure? Once you go past those flames…you might not be able to come back."

Harry responded with a steely, determined glare.

"Absolutely. I'd rather die than live in a world ruled by Voldemort. Besides, you're smarter than me, Hermione. Any resistance against Voldemort will need you more than it needs me."

Hermione sighed heavily. "Harry, there's more to life than 'smarts', especially book-smarts. You have something that book-smarts can never buy – bravery."

_Hey, what about me? I drank the damn bottle first! _Bart thought with some vexation.

Harry smiled in response. "Well, if I don't come back…it's been great knowing you and Ron."

Hermione hugged him tightly upon hearing that, tears streaming down her face all the while. Ron also came over and hugged him.

"It's been great knowing you, mate", Ron added huskily.

"You too, Ron."

Ron and Hermione then turned to Bart, who was watching the proceedings with a neutral expression on his face. Tentatively, Hermione came over to him and extended her hand.

"Thank you for your help, Bart. Without you we wouldn't have survived, never mind gotten this far."

Bart appraised her for a moment before smiling and shaking her hand.

"No problem, Hermione. You also did your bit." _To help me get the Stone. _

Hermione smiled at how Bart for once didn't call him by his sister's name, when Ron shuffled over and grudgingly extended his hand.

"Well, good luck Simpson. You might be a Slytherin wanker, but you saved my hide back there."

Bart gave him a tight-lipped smile before replying, "You always were an asshole, Ron", after which he shook his hand. He then turned to Harry, who was smiling at the goodwill displayed between Bart and Ron. In his mind, it was certainly a refreshing change from their usual uneasy relations.

"You ready to go, Harry?" _The sooner I get that Stone, the better._

Without reply, Harry downed the bottle's contents. Like Bart, he too seemed to be struggling with the feeling of his veins turning to ice, as he sank to his knees and shivered uncontrollably. Eventually though, after taking a few deep breaths, he picked himself up off the floor.

"Are-are you OK, Harry?" Bart asked, feeling somewhat concerned.

Harry gave him a determined stare in response.

"I've never felt better", he grimly replied, feeling at that moment like he could climb Mt. Everest.

Bart nodded. "Let's go then."

With that, Bart and Harry jumped through the flames as if they weren't there, while Hermione and Ron looked on.

"If you two don't come back alive, I'll kill you both", Hermione muttered under her breath.

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Fifteen**

Bart loses three different chess games simultaneously in 'The PTA Disbands'.

I added more challenges 1) to mitigate Bart's greater skill and because 2) in canon IMO the challenges were less security and more puzzles. I decided to add more security (e.g. – the suit of armour) for that reason.

bauers374: Yes, there is. It is because Bart is the protagonist of this story instead of Harry, plus Bart is a 'hotter', more aggressive character than Harry, who in this book plays the restrained 'straight man' by comparison. So where the cooler Mars would symbolise Harry, the hotter Mercury would symbolise Bart. Hope that makes sense.


	16. Book 1: Revelations 1:16

**Chapter Sixteen**

After jumping through the flames, Bart and Harry landed with a start.

_Well, that was pretty cool. That's the first time I've jumped through fire and not felt anything_, Bart thought. However, he was shaken out of his thoughts by Harry hissing something into his ear.

"That's the mirror that shows you your deepest desire."

However, Bart's attention was focused not on the mirror, but rather on a certain someone staring into the mirror, holding an expression which brooked both intrigue and frustration - a certain someone with a turban.

"Quirrell", Bart muttered.

Having heard the young mage, the rogue professor turned around and regarded him with a demented smirk.

"That's right, Simpson. Quirrell. P-poor, i-incompetent, s-stuttering Quirrell. I bet you're surprised to see me here, aren't you, you little wretch?"

Bart responded with typical nonchalance as he shook his head.

"No, not really."

Quirrell raised his eyebrows briefly, but then narrowed his eyes and hissed, in a cold, deliberate, sharp tone that betrayed no evidence of any stutter whatsoever, "You're lying. You had no reason to suspect that I wanted the Stone."

The turbaned terror's anger, however, merely provoked a wider smirk from Bart as he knowingly replied, "Yes I did. I heard that you met with Snape. I thought you were either trying to steal the Stone by yourself, or that you were working with Snape to steal it.

I'm also a Slytherin for a reason. I know how to manipulate people into thinking that I'm not a threat - so I thought that your stuttering might have just been an act."

Quirrell looked thoroughly enraged at hearing this, such that you could almost _see _the steam coming out of his ears.

Bart's former professor thought, _I should have known; after all, he helped bring down that troll. He was probably also responsible for getting Potter and himself past the giant as well. Plus all those rumours I've heard from teachers about him performing wandless transfiguration and vanishing charms on prefects. Yes, he's _definitely_ too dangerous to keep alive. He might defeat my master in years to come. _His resultant response caught Bart completely by surprise.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" the turbaned terror yelled, firing a blinding green light at Bart, with an ominous rushing sound following the light. It was all that Bart could do to dodge the curse, seize Harry and shove them both behind a wall as the green jet whizzed through the flames.

* * *

Outside, Ron and Hermione were staring at the flames intently.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" Hermione asked.

The answer came in a flash, as a murderous jet of green light shot straight towards her.

"Get DOWN!" Ron yelled, tackling Hermione as the death beam missed her head by mere millimetres.

Hermione looked terrified. "What in the world was _that_?" she exclaimed.

"An _Avada Kedavra_. The Killing Curse. My mum told me that it kills whoever it hits." Ron then looked at the flames again before screwing his face up and yelling, "Hold on, Harry! I'm coming!"

He dashed towards the flames but before he could complete more than a few paces Hermione grabbed his legs and brought him to the ground with a thud.

"No, Ron! NO! You'll kill yourself!"

"But Harry…"

"There's nothing we can do. We can't even get through those flames, so how can we help them?"

Ron sighed in frustration. _Harry, please pull through mate!_

* * *

Meanwhile, Bart's insides filled with dread, heart beating rapidly and breathing becoming heavy. He could also hear Harry panting nervously next to him.

_That curse would have killed me!_ he thought as he realised that he was up against yet another would-be killer of the Sideshow Bob mould. After giving his bespectacled friend a brief glance, he closed his eyes and meditated momentarily, collecting his thoughts all the while.

_OK Bart, pull yourself together. You could survive Sideshow Bob; you can also survive Turban Dude and grab that Stone for yourself. _

It was then that Quirrell advanced; his firm, decisive footsteps contrasting from the nervous shuffle that Bart had come to expect from the treacherous turban-wearer.

"Come out, Simpson!" the man harshly ordered. "You can't escape me!"

Having heard Quirrell's words, Bart decided that it was now or never. If the spell that he had been practising in the duelling arena for so long could everbe a game-changer, _now _was the time.

"You want me out, _Squirrel_?" Bart cheekily asked, hoping to anger the man into losing concentration.

"Yes, I want you _out_!" Quirrell barked, punctuating his reply with yet another _Avada Kedavra_, which blasted out a chunk of the wall, mere millimetres away from Bart's nose.

_Well, that sure got him angry. _"You got it!" Bart replied as he pressed his wand to his thigh, closed his eyes and muttered, "_Bāsākā!_"

Immediately, a warm sensation flowed through Bart's body like a hot cup of coffee during a harsh winter, as his mouth became dry and his throat parched. His heart-rate similarly increased, until it felt like his heart would burst through his chest. His nerves also gave way to a manic desire to fight – he felt like he could take on a whole army and win.

_Oh yeah, that's the stuff!_ he thought as he jumped out from behind the wall, dodged a third Killing Curse and immediately engaged Quirrell with every spell in his repertoire. From _Stupefy _to _Relashio _to _Glacius_; if Bart knew it, he used it.

Indeed, curses were veritably _pouring_ out of Bart's wand, such was the fanatical fervour with which he was casting them. For his part, Quirrell couldn't get a spell in edgewise, instead being forced to defend against Bart's relentless barrage, stepping back slowly as he either deflected or dodged the boy's spells.

_Yes! I have him on the ropes! _Bart thought, sheer adrenaline driving him forward, as he sought to deliver the finishing blow.

Unfortunately, he never had the chance. For just as Quirrell had his back to the mirror, the _Bāsākā_ spell's effects immediately ceased. The comedown was terrible, as Bart sunk to his knees, sheer exhaustion overcoming the adrenaline that spurred him on mere moments before. Indeed, it was fortunate that he had not eaten recently, otherwise he would have vomited on the spot.

Moreover, his nerves had returned full force as he saw Quirrell's shadow draw his wand and stand over him. Nerves than became terror as Bart realised that Quirrell was executing him on the spot. He could not bring himself to lift his chin up so that he could make eye contact with the turbaned menace; instead, he hung his head like the condemned person he so obviously was.

However, before he could cast the killing blow, a second, higher voice spoke.

"Stop."

It is funny what one single word can do. It can unleash wars, lead to life-changing marriages and in this case, stop Quirrell from murdering Bart in cold blood. Instead, Bart saw the man's shadow stand bolt upright and address the second voice in a manner betraying both confusion and fear.

"M-master?"

_This new dude must be scaring him shitless_, Bart thought with glee. However, glee turned to apprehension when the second voice piped up in its cold, high tone.

"Quirrell, let me speak to Bart Simpson – face-to-face."

Quirrell protested. "You want to speak to this worthless Mudblood? Why don't I just kill him? He's obviously too dangerous to live as it is."

"You understand the consequence of disobeying one of Lord Voldemort's orders, do you not?"

Upon hearing the name 'Lord Voldemort', Bart's eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere and he heard Harry gasp from a distance.

Unfortunately, both Quirrell and Voldemort heard that sound.

"Who was that?" Voldemort asked.

"Potter, I believe", Quirrell replied.

"Potter, as in _Harry_ Potter, you say? Quirrell, do you mind bringing young Harry over? I think it's time he and I had a little chat."

Bart growled. Now his friend was not only in trouble, but could possibly be used for leverage against Bart by his two adversaries.

The turbaned servant complied, pointing his wand at a metaphorically petrified Harry before bellowing "_Carpe Retractum!_"

However, despite Harry's struggles, he duly found himself kneeling next to Bart, seemingly _willing_ himself not to shake in fear in front of the man who killed his parents.

It was after that when the second voice once again spoke, his cold, high-pitched tone sending a chill down Harry's spine and even unnerving Bart a tad.

_Dude sounds like Michael Jackson on helium_.

After Bart thought that, a cold, high-pitched laugh rang throughout the room. If his mere tone was unnerving, his full-blown laugh was fit for a horror movie. It took all that Bart had to not shiver in revulsion.

"Michael Jackson on helium, Bart? I sound like that_ filthy_ Muggle entertainer, do I? Really, killing him would have done the world a great service."

Bart looked shocked for a moment. "Wait? How did you know I thought that? I didn't even make eye contact with you! And how the hell does a dark wizard who's god-knows-how many years old know about _Michael Jackson?_"

"Well, unlike many practitioners of Legilimency, I do not need to make eye contact to read people's thoughts. Secondly, I've been to many Mudblood and Halfblood homes in my time – plenty of them had at least one record by that loathsome entertainer. But what can you say? I guess that filthy musicians and filthy blood go together!"

Ignoring the cracks about 'Mudbloods', Bart asked after having an epiphany, _Did you guys give the dragon egg to Hagrid? And why?_

"Yes, Quirrell did so on my order. I thought that a filthy half-giant, or whatever type of creature he was, was not fit to remain at Hogwarts in any capacity. Schools should be for wizards, not half-breed freaks. I thought that being caught with a dragon egg in his possession would see him expelled from the grounds or jailed."

Bart decided to meditate and clear his mind of stray thoughts while Harry added his two cents.

"Hagrid was my friend! And you gits were planning to take his job away from him? Just because he might be part-giant or whatever?"

"Sure. Many students would be very grateful, not having to see that beast defile the hallowed grounds of Hogwarts."

"So WHAT? He was my FRIEND! I guess you guys are going to tell me you broke into Gringotts to collect that package from Vault 713?"

"We did."

Harry stared at them momentarily, betraying his genuine surprise. Even Bart was taken aback – he hitherto had no idea that Gringotts had even been broken into. However, Harry continued his questioning.

"Did you let the troll into the castle and release a giant into the chamber as well?"

"Yes, we did."

"Of course", Harry groaned.

"Yes, transfiguring those two foul creatures back and forth was child's play for Quirrell given his access to my abilities. The troll was to be a distraction so that my dear associate Quirrell could get to the Philosopher's Stone.

Unfortunately, not only did Bart here bring down the troll, but Snape headed Quirrell off before he could get past the dog, though not before injuring his leg in the process."

Bart's ears perked up when he heard Voldemort mention Professor Snape's injured leg. _So _that's _why his leg was injured during that detention he gave me for fighting the troll. _

"Yeah, well. What _about_ Snape? Is he working for you as well?"

Bart waited in bated breath for Voldemort's answer. _Surely Captain Hook wouldn't be working for Voldemort, would he?_

Voldemort laughed again. "You certainly have some nerve, Bart, calling me Voldemort and naming your Head of House after a Muggle Sea Captain. Call me that again, however, and there will be consequences. Understand?"

Bart nodded.

"As to your question, Harry -"

"DON'T CALL ME BY MY FIRST NAME! YOU DIDN'T GIVE IT TO ME; MY PARENTS DID! AND YOU KILLED THEM!" Harry bellowed in rage, as Bart groaned in frustration.

"You're not in a position to give me orders, _Harry_", the fiend responded as he twisted the metaphorical knife. "Now, Severus is not exactly working for me at the present time, the way that dear Quirinus here is. Maybe he will make my acquaintance once I've been revived, maybe not. If he does not, he will pay."

Bart and Harry gave each other a look before Bart continued where Harry had left off.

"So…why did you just tell us all of that? What if we go running to Dumbledore?"

"Well, what if I was to say that you two would not be leaving this room alive unless you both joined me?"

Deathly silence reigned after that thinly-veiled threat, but Voldemort relented with a sigh.

"Maybe your decision will be made easier if we discussed things…_face-to-face_. Quirrell, do you mind showing them whom they are talking to? Talking to a turban gets a tad tiresome at length."

Quirrell, with some hesitation, duly and delicately unwound the turban, presumably to avoid antagonising Voldemort. However, nothing could have prepared Bart or Harry for the result.

Frankly, both were too startled to scream at the snake-like visage staring right back at them. Its creepy nature was only accentuated by its glaring red eyes. Hell, its chalk-white skin even evoked Michael Jackson, to the point that Bart _strained_ not to think about him.

Voldemort regarded them with what must have been his attempt at a smile, for it creeped the boys out even more than his initially neutral expression.

"Bartholomew Simpson. Harry Potter. Two friends uniting to steal the Stone from the evil clutches of Lord Voldemort – or does one of them want the Stone for himself?"

Harry looked nonplussed. "What are you talking about? Bart's my friend!"

Voldemort adopted a nightmarish smirk. "Yes, maybe so, but that doesn't mean that he isn't after the Stone for himself. Isn't that right, Bart?"

Harry stared at Bart in shock, with Bart bowing his head down, unable to make eye contact with the myopic magician.

"You-you're lying!" Harry croaked.

"Harry, I can enter people's minds and acquire…understand…even _influence _their thoughts if necessary. Bart unwittingly revealed his intentions during his little fight with Quirrell. Really, I'd be more surprised if he _didn't_ want the stone for himself. The chance for endless wealth and immortality…only a fool would pass that up."

Harry craned his neck towards Bart again, who was still refraining from eye contact. While he examined his friend, a tsunami of negative feelings washed over him. Betrayal. Anger. Disappointment. _Hurt. _How could Bart abuse his trust like this?

All the while, Voldemort chuckled evilly.

"Yes, a Slytherin does what a Slytherin does, Harry. Bart might be brave and reckless, but he is also cunning, even ambitious when he wants to be – using others to grab a rare Stone is certainly cunning and ambitious, isn't it?

Now, Bart, you may be a Mudblood with too many Gryffindor traits for my liking, but I can see that you were ultimately born to be in Slytherin. In light of your prodigious talent, I will generously overlook your blood status and offer you a place at my side among my Death Eaters. I can offer you wealth beyond compare – and the opportunity to cheat death. So, do you accept?"

Bart thought long and hard about Voldemort's offer. The promise of wealth and immortality was indeed tempting. Plus he knew that he would probably be murdered if he refused Voldemort's offer. Hell, he could even try to bring Voldemort's organisation down from the inside later on!

On the other hand, he had been in something like this situation before. Mr. Burns, who resembled Voldemort in terms of personality, had offered to make Bart his heir – provided he cut ties to his biological family first. However, Bart could not bring himself to do so at the time.

Bart realised that the situation was much the same here. He valued his relationships with Harry, Gemma, Daphne and Tracey. Hell, he had even grown to respect Hermione and Ron some. He knew that if he joined Voldemort, those relationships would be over.

Plus it was obvious that the snake-faced fiend in front of him despised Muggles and Muggleborns – like his family. If he joined Voldemort's cause, he'd essentially be betraying his family.

Moreover, even if he _did_ try to bring down Voldemort's organisation from the inside, how could he hide his intentions against someone who could open minds like most people open books?

"No", came Bart's concise reply, as Harry gasped.

"No? Are you sure, Bart? Are you sure that you want to throw away the chance to be rich and immortal?"

"Yes", Bart croaked, as if it pained him to answer.

"Very well, then", Voldemort replied, voice betraying grave disappointment. "Quirrell, you may kill him."

Bart hung his head, awaiting the sweet release of death.

It never came.

Instead, he heard a crashing sound and some grunting, which was followed up by an agonising, unholy scream.

_What the hell's going on?_ Bart thought as he reared his head up. What he saw astonished him.

It was Harry kneeling over Quirrell, grasping the turbaned man's face. As he did so, Quirrell's face appeared to be suffering from something beyond a fourth-degree burn. The burning appeared to go beyond the layers of tissue. Indeed, Quirrell's skin appeared to be melting into some sort of bloody goo, which dripped on the floor. It was a scene fit for Bart's worst nightmares, as it took him all his strength not to vomit. He actually admired how Harry clung onto their ex-professor for dear life.

Eventually, all of Quirrell's facial skin had burnt off, revealing only a skull, which dissolved into ash along with the rest of his body. A black wraith had emerged and looked set to attack Harry when a voice behind them shouted, "Harry! Bart!"

Upon hearing the voice, the black wraith flew past Bart and through the flames behind them. As Bart tracked its progress, he finally laid eyes upon the originator of the voice; none other than Headmaster Dumbledore.

"I'm glad that I came just in time to rescue you two. Another second later and Lord Voldemort would probably have tried to possess one of you." _Probably Bart. _Seeing Harry on his knees panting profusely at the spot where Quirrell once lay, the headmaster quickly strode to him and asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"

After a few deep breaths, Harry replied, "I'm fine, sir. My scar was really hurting, though."

The headmaster nodded and replied, "That doesn't come as a surprise. I would aver that your scar hurts when Lord Voldemort is nearby, or when he is feeling particularly murderous."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Sir, where is the Stone?"

The centenarian headmaster smiled indulgently before responding in typically enigmatic fashion. "Well, why don't you look at the mirror and find out? Perhaps it will help you, should you not wish to use the Stone."

Harry complied as Bart looked on avidly. He could vaguely make out Harry's pallid reflection in the mirror smiling at him and pulling a stone from its pocket, before it winked at Harry and placed it back in its pocket.

Almost instantly, Harry felt his real pocket. The stone was obviously there; Bart could only watch with awe, having never witnessed such a thing before.

_Wow! The Stone! Too bad I already missed my chance to take it_, Bart thought as awe turned into depression.

For his part, Harry held the Philosopher's Stone up to the sky like a trophy. Observing it closely, Bart saw that it was a dazzling ruby-red colour that lit up its surrounds.

"So this is the Stone?" Harry asked, as transfixed by it as Bart was.

The headmaster flashed his trademark smile, but his answer surprised both boys.

"No."

"WHAT?" they both shouted in unison, to which the headmaster merely chuckled.

"No, it's not. Did you _really _think that I would leave something as valuable as the Philosopher's Stone in an area where an adversary could acquire it?"

"But then why did you have the mirror protect the stone from people who wanted to use it?" Harry asked.

"Oh, that was just so any potential adversary would be contained here for longer, by which time I would hopefully be able to apprehend them. If not, the decoy stone would be useless, anyway."

Bart looked like he had just been told that Christmas had been cancelled. "You mean to tell me that we risked our lives for a goddamn _decoy_?"

Headmaster Dumbledore nodded but replied, "Yes, Bart. But you helped to thwart Voldemort. I promise that you will be rewarded for that, along with your allies."

That brought a smile to Bart's face. _A reward. Just what I deserve for being a hero._

"Now let us depart this place. The others are waiting for us outside", the headmaster ordered, as he led Bart and Harry through the flames.

* * *

When they emerged, there stood Professor Snape, Gemma, Hermione and Ron. Hermione screamed, "Harry! Thank god you're alright!" before rushing over to hug him, with Ron not far behind.

Unfortunately, Bart didn't receive the same reaction from Gemma or Professor Snape. The latter looked at Bart as if he had just swallowed a live puppy, while Gemma gave him a stony glare.

_I guess she doesn't appreciate all that healthy exercise she got chasing me up those stairs._

Finally, Gemma strode over and tightly hugged him before shaking him by his shoulders.

"You _idiot! _This is just like that time you ran off to see a troll! You just don't learn, do you? You can't always put yourself in danger like this! One day you are going to die!"

She looked shaken as she said that. In fact, if Bart didn't know better he would have thought that she looked on the verge of tears.

Yet again, Gemma had managed to make Bart feel ashamed of his behaviour, as he bowed his head down, not being able to make eye contact with those beautiful brown eyes of hers. However, that didn't mean he wasn't going to defend himself.

"Gemma, I had to go! I had to stop Quirrell!" _I can't tell her the real reason I went down there…_

"No you didn't! You didn't have to risk your life like that! Let the teachers try and stop him; that's their job! Besides, I warned you about associating with Gryffindors!"

Realising he was not persuading Gemma, Bart decided to try another tack.

"Would you feel better if I told you I've probably won Slytherin some points?"

Gemma gave him a half-smile. "A little – but what good would some house points do if you die?" _And my plans for you aren't realised as a result?_

"Well, I'm still alive, so who cares?"

Gemma shook her head and laughed wearily at Bart's chutzpah before replying.

"Bart, you will be the death of me one day. Now that I think about it, you figured out the Philosopher's Stone was at Hogwarts because I told you about it. Am I right?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Bart nodded and smirked in response, before Professor Snape stepped in to kill his mood.

"Simpson. For recklessly endangering your life _again_, you will be serving a detention with me tomorrow night."

"Ah Severus, go easy on the boy. He just helped to thwart Lord Voldemort!" the headmaster exclaimed, having just come up to the trio.

"Albus, might I remind you that Simpson has constantly misbehaved throughout the year and has put himself in mortal danger more than once? If anyone warrants discipline, it is him!"

"Severus, your concerns about young Bart's behaviour have merit, but I insist that allowances be made in this instance", the headmaster replied, in a tone that strongly suggested that the hook-nosed professor had no choice in the matter.

Professor Snape looked like he wanted to throw himself off the nearest cliff, but nonetheless slowly nodded and replied in his most acerbic tone, "Very well. Simpson, I will rescind your detention. But don't expect Professor Dumbledore's leniency if you do something like this again!"

Bart did nothing but smirk, knowing that it would incense his head of house further, before Headmaster Dumbledore led them all out.

* * *

Before long, the entire group found themselves huddled in Headmaster Dumbledore's office.

"Well, I'm sure you four had quite the adventure down there", the elderly wizard began, gesturing to Bart and the Gryffindor trio, "and your endeavour to thwart Lord Voldemort deserves nothing but the highest praise."

_Goodness me, Bart fought You-Know-Who and _survived_? _Gemma thought in shock, before Headmaster Dumbledore continued.

"However, as I explained to young Bart and Harry previously, the Philosopher's Stone that Lord Voldemort was after was naught but a decoy."

"WHAT?" Ron, Hermione and Gemma blurted out. Even Professor Snape's eyes widened, though he narrowed them soon afterwards as he realised that he had been tricked into guarding a decoy.

_Dumbledore, you sly old fox. I should have known that you would never have left the real Philosopher's Stone in a place where Quirrell or another enemy could possibly obtain it. Sometimes I'm amazed that you were never in Slytherin_, the hook-nosed man thought with a knowing smirk.

"That's right – a decoy which I specifically placed in and then removed from Gringotts to leave Quirrell under the false impression that the decoy Stone was in fact the real one.

The one mistake I did make was not properly securing the door leading to the Cerberus. Students could have died. Please forgive this old man that mistake", Dumbledore finished, with a tinge of sorrow in his voice.

"Well…where is the real Stone?" Bart asked.

"I'm glad that you asked, young Bart", the headmaster replied with a whiplash smile, as he pulled out a slip of paper before enlarging it so that the whole room could see it. "If all of you would kindly read the text on this slip of paper in unison, you will discover the location of the real Philosopher's Stone."

"The Philosopher's Stone may be found in Professor Dumbledore's top drawer", read the entire room.

Immediately after they finished, Professor Dumbledore pulled open his top drawer and held the genuine Philosopher's Stone high above the ground. The entire room, bar Professor Snape, gaped and gasped in awe, obviously realising that so much as sighting a Philosopher's Stone was a rarefied experience.

"Yes, a Philosopher's Stone is indeed an extraordinary object. It can produce gold from metal, and immortality from the Elixir of Life.

Unfortunately, that is what makes it so dangerous in the wrong hands. Can you imagine a corrupted individual using gold to buy influence, or immortality to extend their reign of terror? As such…it must be destroyed post-haste", the aged mage finished wearily, as the Philosopher's Stone slowly disintegrated in his hand, gram by gram. As it did so, it released ruby-red flame that encircled the ceiling above the students, creating a spectacular firestorm. All bar Professor Dumbledore were entranced by the display, before the flames slowly vanished into nothing.

_Wow, that was awesome!_ Bart thought, before a question came to the tip of his tongue.

"Headmaster Dumbledore…what happens to that Nicolas Flaming guy now?"

"Flamel", Hermione corrected _sotto voce_, with a roll of the eyes.

With a chortle, Headmaster Dumbledore responded. "Well, Nicolas and his wife will eventually pass on – but not before they use whatever amount of Elixir they have to get their affairs in order. Now, will any one of you four mind informing me exactly what you did?"

At that, Bart surreptitiously made eye contact with Dumbledore, who avidly peered at him for a minute. He then gave Bart a subtle nod before breaking eye contact.

_He used Legilimency on Bart_, Gemma thought with astonishment, having never witnessed him doing so before.

"Yes indeed, it seems that you four have had a most eventful time of things. You four have overcome challenges and travails that would have been beyond the vast majority of wizards."

"So are you going to reward us?" Bart asked quickly.

"Most certainly."

"As part of my reward, can I please hold a press conference describing what happened? In front of the entire school?" _So I can be famous and get lots of money from interviews and book sales?_

The entire room bar the headmaster groaned at Bart's blatant attention-seeking, but even the headmaster looked somewhat perturbed. "May I ask why, young Bart?"

"Well, these things have a way of getting out. It's better for everyone to know the truth, so rumours don't spread about me, or the rest of us, getting it on with Professor Quirrell, like what happened with me and the troll. Or maybe people spreading rumours that you let us go down there by ourselves." _Yeah, that'll convince him._

"Albus, you're not seriously thinking about honouring Simpson's demented request, are you?" spluttered Professor Snape. _The world already has one Gilderoy Lockhart; we don't need another._

"As a matter of fact, I will, Severus. Untrue rumours about what happened will likely be much more damaging to this school's reputation than the truth. I will inform world-renowned journalists of proceedings as I am aware of them and then invite them to ask the students involved further questions. However, I would advise all participants not to say anything that can be used against them, particularly where a journalist named Rita Skeeter is concerned."

_This is the perfect opportunity to raise my profile. _"May I participate in this conference, Professor Dumbledore?" obsequiously asked Gemma.

_Just like her parents, wanting to increase her status by any means possible. _"I don't see why not, Miss Farley. Would anybody else like to participate?"

"I wouldn't", Harry growled, glaring irritably at Bart. The last thing he wanted was more attention, and yet Bart was going to give it to him anyway. _Is he really a friend? First taking advantage of my trust, now this._

"Nor would I", responded Hermione, giving Bart a deathly glare.

"Certainly not myself", tersely replied Professor Snape as he painstakingly enunciated every syllable, all the while giving Bart an even more murderous glare.

"I would", casually replied Ron. _This is my chance to show the world I'm not just another Weasley._

The other two Gryffindors gasped at Ron's admission; even Bart looked surprised.

_Whoa, didn't see that coming. _

"Very well. I will contact news outlets around the world and have one set up in the next week. Now, as for your other rewards. All four first-year students will receive Special Awards for Services to the School.

Miss Granger, for bringing down the Cerberus, destroying the Venomous Tentacula, and exercising an excellent command of logic in discerning which potions to drink, I award 60 points to Gryffindor.

Mr. Weasley, for adept marshalling of chess pieces, and turning of a key, I award 50 points to Gryffindor.

Mr. Potter, for outstanding observational and diving skills, potentially saving Mr. Simpson's life, plus vanquishing a dangerous wizard, I award 80 points to Gryffindor.

Mr. Simpson, for bringing down the Cerberus and the winged key, immobilising a giant, waylaying a giant suit of armour, leading by example in going through the trapdoor first, effectively using both common and uncommon spells, potentially saving the life of at least one of the Gryffindor students, and duelling a dangerous wizard, I award 125 points to Slytherin.

Miss Farley, for alerting Professor Snape and indirectly myself to the predicament of the four first-year students, in the process probably saving their lives, I award 50 points to Slytherin."

Gasps and gapes abounded around the room. Hermione was crying tears of joy, Ron was blushing like a sunset, Harry looked humbled, Bart looked smug and Gemma looked rapt, as she hugged Bart tightly. As Bart hugged her back, he briefly looked at Professor Snape to gauge his reaction. In response, the usually hostile professor gave him the briefest flicker of a smile.

_That's the closest thing I'll ever receive to a compliment from him. I may as well take it_, bitterly thought Bart as he gave him a small smile in response.

"Severus, Miss Farley, do you mind escorting Hermione and Ronald back to their common room? I wish to speak with Bart and Harry privately."

The two Slytherins nodded, with Professor Snape roughly gesturing for the two first-years to follow him. They both did so, but not before Ron gave Harry a long-suffering look. After they left, the elderly mage turned to Bart.

"Bart, what was the _real _reason you wanted to hold a press conference?"

"What I said, sir", Bart lied.

The headmaster sighed. This wasn't the first time that Bart had frustrated him with his secrecy. However, he decided to let it go, but not before delivering a few words of warning.

"Fair enough Bart. But let me please humbly remind you that fame can be a double-edged sword. It can increase your profile, but it can also harm your reputation. Remember the aftermath of the encounter with the troll."

Bart nodded, before Headmaster Dumbledore asked him to leave. However, rather than going straight back to the Slytherin Common Room, he disillusioned himself and waited for Harry.

After a while, Harry walked out. Bart quickly revealed himself and called out to his retreating figure.

"Hey Harry!"

Harry turned around but Bart didn't like the wary, distrustful expression on his face, nor his terseness in reply. "Yes?"

Sensing that something was wrong, Bart meekly asked, "Are…are we still friends?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I don't know, Bart. You betrayed my trust. You used us to grab the Stone for yourself. Then you decide to give me more attention by holding a bloody press conference about what we did. Attention! That's the last thing I want or need. Well, anyway…I'll think about it over the summer."

He then trooped away, leaving Bart feeling more forlorn than he had for a long time.

_What have I done?_

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Sixteen**

Leaving the real Philosopher's Stone in a place where there was even a remote possibility that Quirrell/Voldemort could have obtained it was IMO one of the dumbest things Dumbledore did in the series. Far smarter to leave a decoy there to lure and then isolate them, while using the Fidelius Charm to conceal the real one in a more secure place.

I awarded points based on each student's overall contribution to thwarting Voldemort. Bart did much of the heavy lifting, so he gets the most points. Harry vanquished Quirrell, which is more notable than anything Hermione did, while Ron gets the least points for playing a relatively minor role. Gemma gets the same amount of points as Ron because, while she didn't participate in the quartet's adventures, her actions did probably save them from being possessed, or being trapped underneath forever.

Note that Quirrell is not referred to as 'Professor Quirrell'. At this point he is no longer Bart's teacher; he is just an enemy to be defeated.

_Carpe Retractum _can be used to lift living creatures; I don't see why a Voldemort-enhanced Quirrell could not lift an 11-year old child using this charm.

It is not clear to what degree Voldemort's possession affected Quirrell – it may have simply been that his personality was altered, but it wouldn't surprise me if Quirrell gained access to most or maybe even all of Voldemort's memories/abilities.

Michael Jackson was popular in around 1981 (when Voldemort killed Harry's parents), even in the UK. BTW, the recent allegations against Jackson make any comparison to him even creepier, which is what I was going for.

RE the Simpsons universe I'm very loose with chronology because it's a floating timeline; such is not true of the HP Universe.

bauers374: I got that line from a Midnight Oil song. They were only a one-hit wonder in the US (I think?) so you probably heard/read it from somewhere else.


	17. Book 1: Pressing Exposures

**Chapter Seventeen**

Early that evening, Professor Flitwick entered Headmaster Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Filius, what a pleasure it is for you to join me!"

"And you too, Albus", Flitwick effused. "You called me in to discuss something?"

"As his head of house when he graduated, do you recall what Gilderoy Lockhart was like as a student?"

The little man threw his hands up in exasperation. "_R-Remember him?_ The young man did everything possible to make sure that you couldn't _not_ remember him! I mean he cast a facial likeness of himself in the sky in some ridiculous warping of The Dark Mark, and…"

"Yes, yes, that will do, Filius. "Now, how would you react if I was to hire him next year as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"With all due respect Albus, by firing you into the sun."

The headmaster smiled indulgently before admitting: "And yet, I was thinking of doing so anyway." But before Flitwick could jump up and angrily argue his case, Dumbledore hushed him.

"Yes, I have been considering hiring Gilderoy as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the next school year, due to a paucity of candidates. That, and Harry Potter's presence here will draw him to the castle like a moth to a flame – he's always felt the need to be the biggest star in any given place and in his mind, Harry will be until he shows up.

You know, every curse-breaker I've hired has tried to lift the curse, I've changed the name of the class, and I've even used portkeys to have classes outside of Hogwarts. Nothing has worked", the headmaster replied with a sigh.

Flitwick made to interrupt, but Dumbledore stopped him before continuing.

"Rest assured, however, that Gilderoy's career is about to reach a most-undistinguished end before he sets foot within any classroom."

Flitwick raised his eyebrows at this, inviting the headmaster to press home the reason.

"I know a couple of wizards whom I suspect had their memories wiped by Gilderoy."

"Can't say I'm surprised. I thought that his books were a load of tosh."

"Indeed. I had actually planned to use the press conference involving Bart Simpson, Ronald Weasley and Gemma Farley, to expose Gilderoy Lockhart. Severus Snape will be fully involved; given his contempt for Gilderoy, I'm sure he'd be all too delighted to participate."

"Yeah, absolutely", Flitwick replied with typical enthusiasm. Honestly, the prospect of the charlatan getting what he deserved was sending him into inward conniptions of happiness, given how much his displays of base narcissism during his time at Hogwarts had annoyed Flitwick.

"So what would you have me do at this press conference, should Lockhart try to flee?"

"A simple Levitation Charm should suffice, my dear Filius."

"Whom will you replace Lockhart with?" the miniscule professor asked.

"I'm considering my options", Professor Dumbledore responded cryptically. After a brief silence, he decided to probe: "What do you think of Bartholomew Simpson?"

"In terms of sheer, unbridled natural talent, Mr. Simpson might well be the most talented first-year to ever set foot in a Charms classroom. However, his homework is very disappointing for somebody with such natural talent. In fact, the written work I've seen would only scrape an Acceptable. I can't figure out if he has no interest in theoretical concepts or whether he just loses concentration when his natural magical talent can't save the day."

The headmaster nodded thoughtfully. "I'll see what his end-of-year marks are like before I come to any further conclusions. Now, how is he as a person?"

"He seems like a modest, polite, sincere child."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

_Tom Riddle came off as being exactly the same when he wanted to ingratiate himself with teachers – no doubt to manipulate them into giving him information._

"Did you teach Bart how to use the Confounding Charm?"

"No, but he asked about it."

_So he learnt and performed the charm all by himself them after manipulating Filius into explaining what the charm was. He then used the Confounding Charm to trick other students into letting him into various common rooms. He also used the charm twice when leading the quartet against Voldemort – to trick the queen into attacking the king, and to force a set of armour to step aside,_ the centenarian mused.

He wondered whether he needed to keep a closer eye on Bart than before, lest he do something so stupid that he endangered the school. The aged mage figured that a conference with Bart's Head of House might address the issue, rocky though relations between Bart and Professor Snape were.

"Filius, that ends our meeting; thank you very much for your time. If you could notify Severus that I wish to see him, that would be appreciated greatly." Dumbledore stated.

"Absolutely no problem at all, Albus" enthusiastically replied Filius as he jauntily made his miniscule way out the door.

* * *

Sure enough, a week later, at the morning of the press conference in the Great Hall, sat Bart, Gemma, Ron and Headmaster Dumbledore, facing down a media scrum so ravenous that saliva was literally dripping down their shirts.

Bart was wearing a snake mask. He wanted to not only honour Slytherin, but also display to the prejudiced Gryffindors in particular, that indeed, Slytherins and Gryffindors could work together for the greater cause: stopping Lord Voldemort. Of course, the Slytherin snake mask meant that the attention would mostly go towards Bart, which of course is what he wanted.

An outsider would conclude that, such was Lockhart's fame, the media pack were simply 'ravenous' to get any sight of the 'miracle magician' himself.

However, Bart, Gemma, Ron and the headmaster knew better, as did Professor Flitwick, whom while not attending the press conference had a front-row seat, with Professor Snape sitting alongside him, to the sight of one of this era's biggest wizarding frauds having his career and reputation reduced to spell sparks in front of him.

Despite Lockhart's lack of consideration for others, Flitwick felt a pang of sympathy for the conman. Having your career end in disgrace was not something the dwarf would wish on anyone – except Voldemort. Still, he had ruined other people's lives for personal gain and had to pay the price. After all, he benefited from full memory; his poor victims did not. He turned to examine Professor Snape's features. While Snape appeared stoic, his eyes burnt with a predatory hunger – a hunger reflected by his own thoughts.

_I despise frauds, egotists and buffoons. I respect those who have the skill to match their words, and Lockhart's skill is about a hundredth of what he depicts in his stories, no doubt designed to draw money out of the ignorant, foolish and gullible. Lockhart being shown up today, partially by my hand no less, will be _very _sweet indeed. _

Sure enough, the showboat sauntered in, expecting rapturous applause from all present. He certainly got it from much of the student base, but the media seemed rather stiff in their applause. Lockhart seemed taken aback by this, so the canny headmaster gestured to the press by 'raising the roof'.

Taking the hint, the press _soaked_ the conman with applause. To that, the prince of pomposity himself jumped on the table and gave a mock bow to the apparently adoring press cauldron, to which they responded to laying it on thicker.

_I guess these people are so well-versed in sucking up to real celebrities that pretending to suck up to a fake one like Lockhart is child's play. Little does Lockhart know that this is the last time he will get to do that without having half of wizarding England's tomatoes thrown at him_, Professor Snape inwardly snarked as he took in Lockhart's showmanship with measured contempt.

As if the mock bow wasn't enough, Lockhart channelled his inner Fred Astaire by doing a deft little tap-dance around the table before sitting in the middle of the press conference; better for a celebrity to take centre-stage, even one on the verge of losing his.

Bart observed Lockhart's behaviour with great amusement.

_Looks like this Lockhart dude has taken a few pages from the Book of Bart_, he noted with approval. _Too bad he's not actually going to be our teacher; that'd actually be pretty cool. I can just imagine it now..._

* * *

"Now I think a little quiz is a good icebreaker for our first class, don't you? Now it wouldn't be very proper of me if I didn't assess how up to speed you students are with my books. I mean, how I can teach you if you're not properly familiar with my greatness first? After all, since I'm so great, why _wouldn't_ you listen to me? Every single word of mine ought to be documented for the ages so generations of young aspirants can become as great as I – not that they will of course!" the smug sorcerer concluded.

Daphne rolled her eyes contemptuously at that statement, Tracey tapped her fingers on the desk in annoyance, while Draco smirked in contempt.

_Yeah, as far as you're concerned, your dragon-dodging daddy is the only great wizard around isn't he Drain-o? That, and maybe old Vold_, Bart thought to himself, remembering how the elder Malfoy missed incriminating Hagrid for allowing a dragon onto school property, plus Draco chewing out Bart for using Voldemort's name in front of Quirrell.

When Lockhart handed out the test papers he went, "You have thirty minutes, starting from…now!"

Bart read the questions in front of him:

1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?

2\. When was Gilderoy Lockhart born?

3\. Who was Gilderoy Lockhart's mother?

4\. Who was Gilderoy Lockhart's biggest adversary?

5\. In what country did Gilderoy Lockhart defeat the Wagga Wagga werewolf?

6\. Is Gilderoy Lockhart more beautiful than everything else in the universe, including the black holes?

7\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

And finally:

54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday?

55\. What would his ideal gift be?

As he did so, an evil grin spread across his snake, as he heard Daphne sigh in exasperation while Tracey tapped her fingers ever faster in vexation.

Bart responded to the questions as follows:

1\. Vomit

2\. Too soon

3\. Some stupid bitch

4\. Some dude

5\. Bonerland

6\. Nah, the black holes are sexier

7\. Ripping the world's loudest fart

And finally:

54\. Same as Voldemort's

55\. A jail sentence

Bart uncharacteristically finished the questions in record time. Not that he cared – it was never about the result, it was about trolling Lockhart as much as possible.

Sure enough, when Lockhart picked up and read Bart's answers, his face became as red as Mars. By the time he finished, he looked all too ready to eviscerate Bart right there and then. For the moment though, he merely spluttered incoherently. For his part, Bart was trying not to burst out laughing.

Then Lockhart spoke.

"You dare…you dare to mock my accomplishments and my passions? But why, Bart, you're a mere peon next to me, the noble, mighty Gilderoy Lockhart!" Lockhart fumed.

For sure, this wasn't the side of himself that the man typically revealed to the public. It was really good for Bart to know that, underneath all the posturing and posing, Lockhart's skin was so thin that it could be cut with a feather.

_He's easier to piss off than Skinner_, Bart mused. He had always admired – and played off – Principal Skinner's stoicism.

But before Bart could react, Lockhart whipped out his wand – but then dropped it after twirling it extravagantly. Bart could stay silent no more as he burst out laughing; his laughter echoing across the halls.

After Bart stopped laughing, he responded, shouting for extra emphasis, "But seriously dude, STUPEFY!"

Bart then jumped on the table and bowed to the rest of the class as Lockhart went down with a thud. Predictably, he was met with applause by everybody except Draco's posse, who were looking most displeased. Even Daphne and Tracey, who were irritated by Lockhart's antics, applauded.

* * *

Drifting back to reality, Bart sighed wistfully as he tried to contain his laughter. He quickly focused though, realising that the press conference was about to begin.

Lockhart, of course, decided to commandeer it like a sea captain would a ship.

"Ah, it's so good to be back here, at Hogwarts, the place that helped make Gilderoy Lockhart into Gilderoy Lockhart, acclaimed defeater of dark creatures, best-selling author, Order of Merlin winner, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and last but not least, the darling of Witch Weekly.

But I didn't come here to brag about my successes! I came here to answer questions from my many friends in the press! So Miss Skeeter, why don't you begin?" Lockhart asked, pointing to a blonde, green-eyed, curly-haired witch who possessed a smug expression, a Quick-Quotes Quill and a notepad, before taking a swig of the drink in front of him.

_Rita Skeeter? Didn't Dumbledore warn us about her? _Bart thought, looking towards Gemma and Ron for an indicator. Sure enough, their eyes hardened.

_Better not say anymore to her than I absolutely have to then._

"Absolutely Gilderoy. Now tell me, is it true that you saved an entire village in Armenia from werewolves?"

"No, a local warlock did that. But he was ugly, old and had no dress sense. You wouldn't put his mug on a coaster, much less a book. So I decided to take the credit for what he did. People are very pliable once you apply memory charms on them, you know."

_Why the hell would you admit THAT? _Bart thought as a tidal wave of murmuring consumed the entire student body. The young wizard quickly looked towards the teaching faculty, who looked remarkably smug sitting in front of the student body. Professor Snape in particular looked like he was having his best day ever. He then looked to Gemma and Ron, who had the same identical, knowing smirk.

_They know something I don't_, Bart realised. But then he thought back to the meeting the three had with their venerable Headmaster a few days ago.

* * *

Bart, Gemma and Ron were sitting before their magical mage. When Ron saw Bart, he nodded stiffly at him, no doubt acknowledging Bart's role in getting him a higher profile among the wizarding community. Bart nodded respectfully, inwardly being relieved that Harry had apparently not told Ron what went down between Voldemort, Harry and Bart. If he had, the hot-tempered Gryffindor sitting beside him would have let him know _very _quickly.

"So are we all ready for this meeting? Bart? Ronald? Miss Farley?" Each politely nod.

The superb sorcerer then outlined how questions from Rita Skeeter warranted nothing other than a "no comment", explaining that Skeeter's articles had harmed both his personal reputation and the school's.

"Also…under no circumstances mention Harry Potter's role in this whole affair. The boy clearly resents his fame and clearly would long to be a normal Hogwarts student, given how he has refused to participate in this press conference. We will give him this privilege, especially since Gryffindor has already received points for his involvement in defeating Lord Voldemort. If somebody mentions Harry's name by mistake, I will cast a spell forcing them to correct their mistake."

"OK, so who takes credit for Harry's achievements, if they're brought up?" Bart asked.

_Interesting_, Gemma thought. _Bart refers to Harry Potter by his first name. They must be friends. Usually I would discourage Bart from befriending Gryffindors, but being known as friends of Harry Potter would gain the Farley family name a certain amount of status. Unfortunately, we can no longer reasonably expect to remain neutral if that was the case. We would have to join the Order of the Phoenix, which would make us targets for the Dark Lord._

_I think father and I would agree that we shouldn't openly associate our family with Harry Potter for the time being. But I'm happy enough to let Bart and Potter associate with one another, so long as they are discreet. Potter must have been pretty talented to stop the Dark Lord, so maybe he can teach Bart a few things. _

"It depends on the question being asked. For example, Ron could say that he dived to grab the ring after Gemma's stunner shot it down. As for who killed Quirrell, we could say that Bart used his _Bāsākā_ attack to engage Quirrell in an intense duel, claim that Quirrell had a heart condition, and that he simply died of a heart attack because his body couldn't handle the intensity."

"Should Voldemort be exposed?"

"It may cause a panic, and may cause political complications for me, but ultimately it is the right thing to do. It is better for people to know of Voldemort's return now, when he lacks a corporeal body, than when he does have a body and has free reign to unite his followers and create chaos.

Now onto more pressing matters – the famous author-adventurer Gilderoy Lockhart has decided to grace Hogwarts with his presence during the press conference."

_What kind of weirdo names their kid Gilderoy?_ Bart thought with a snigger before examining both Ron and Gemma's reactions. Neither seemed very impressed, but for what reasons Bart couldn't discern.

Bart had also noted how the headmaster had said the word 'grace' with the subtlest of sharp edges.

_Oh, is something going down?_

Almost as if having heard Bart, the aged mage responded in the affirmative.

"I believe that a couple of my associates had their memories wiped by Gilderoy, so he could take credit for their accomplishments. I used Harry Potter's celebrity status to lure Gilderoy to Hogwarts, and I anticipate that he'll be exposed as the fraud that he is and will end his career accordingly. He will most likely spend time in prison."

Ron looked appalled.

"Serves him right if he goes to Azkaban, then!" the fiery Gryffindor emoted.

"Indeed, young Ronald." the headmaster agreed.

Gemma's facial expression didn't change, but she wasn't particularly surprised at these revelations.

_I've read a few of his books and I was never really convinced that his feats were real. Many of them would have required extraordinary power and talent. Everything I've heard from various wizarding circles suggests that Lockhart was at best an above-average wizard; certainly not one capable of performing the magical feats described in his books. I guess Dumbledore's explanation just confirms that he's a fraud, _she thought with a shrug.

Meanwhile, Bart seemed nonplussed. _So he's a con-man who got caught? Meh, nothing to see here. _

"So how will he be exposed?" Bart asked.

"You'll figure that out in due course, young Bart", came one of Dumbledore's trademark ambiguous replies. "Now, this discussion will remain a secret, I trust?" The trio nodded and with that, the meeting concluded.

* * *

_Of course! That drink was spiked with some sort of potion_, Bart thought as his mind warped back to the present, thinking back to the time he had accidentally got Edna Krabappel fired by spiking her drink. _Maybe one that makes you tell the truth? I can sort of see why my dear headmaster might not want to tell me about such a potion. Imagine me using it against Drain-o, or Captain Hook, or Homer, or even Lisa. Seriously though, I _have_ to figure out how to get this potion._

For his part, Lockhart looked shocked. _I didn't mean to say that! W-what's going on? Oh…no…I remember Slughorn discussing this back in the day…this is Veritaserum, the truth potion! Oh no, I have to get out of here!_

But before he could overcome his shock, he was asked another question.

"Valerian Williamsum from _The New York Ghost_ here", a brown-haired reporter with spectacles began. "Tell me, Mr. Lockhart, did you banish the Bandon Banshee?"

Lockhart covered his mouth in order to try and avoid responding, much to the amusement of the entire room, but his hands quickly, and seemingly unwillingly, separated from his mouth.

_Why did his hands just move? _Bart asked, before the answer hit him. _Dumbledore. _

"NoIdidn'titwasawitchwithahairychin", the conman quickly replied, obviously hoping to not be heard properly.

"So…you're saying that you didn't?" Valerian responded with a wry grin, as the room laughed.

"That'sright!" Lockhart quickly blurted out. "Look, uh, I have to end this press conference now! Nice meeting you all!" He sprinted towards the exit, but before he could get there he was knocked down with a stunner, before being levitated a few feet into the air.

The room roared even louder with laughter, as a square-jawed witch with grey copped hair and a monocle rose. Her visage was marked by sternness as she unfailingly trained her wand upon the fallen flim-flam man. Formidable though she looked, Bart only spared one thought:

_Dear god, she looks like a cross between a lesbo, a granny and one of those rich snobs!_

She then pointed her wand at her throat and cast a _Sonorus _charm – the resultant volume was enough for Bart to spray his drink around the table, to the amusement of his playful headmaster, his indulgent Transfiguration teacher and the wider student faculty. However, Ron, Gemma and Professor Snape all glared at him in annoyance.

The speaker herself surveyed Bart with no small degree of annoyance before restarting, though her eyes brooked no real malice; just irritability.

_Hmmm…seems she doesn't really like me. That's OK; nothing new. _

"My name is Amelia Bones. Some of you may know me as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Upon surveying the evidence generously provided to us, and presumably the global wizarding press, by Professor Dumbledore, we conclude that Gilderoy Lockhart has used the memory charm to illegally, and without consent, alter the memories of both British and foreign nationals. We believe that he has profited off such illegal deeds. He may be extradited to Armenia to face trial and possible imprisonment. If he has been seen to be profiteering off crime, then his books will be withdrawn from bookstores immediately. That is all."

Bart froze up when he heard the name 'Bones'.

_Bones? Oh crap, I used the Confundo charm on that chick Susan Bones to get into Huffle-poof's common room! _

_Also…that's right! This woman wanted Gemma's parents to stand trial for supposedly helping Voldemort! _

Looking over at Gemma quickly, he saw that the prefect was piercing the older witch with a petrifyingly murderous gaze. For her part, when she laid eyes upon Gemma, Madame Bones retaliated with a gaze of her own, with a scowl to match.

_No love lost there_, Bart thought. _She might be a dyke, but she means business. I'll have to stay away from her and lil' Suzi as much as possible._

Meanwhile, when Madam Bones spoke of Professor Dumbledore's involvement in providing incriminating evidence against Lockhart, the headmaster found himself drifting back to the time in which he did that. Basically, all that he needed to do was lure the egotistical, self-gratifying Lockhart to his office for an interview, and after engaging in small talk that would have disarmed an angry samurai, he quickly neutralised Lockhart with a _Stupefy_.

The aged mage then infiltrated Lockhart's mind, confirmed his charlatanism, extracted his memory and placed it into a vial, performed a multitude of _Geminio _charms and sent them off via owl before the memories could degrade.

With Lockhart's career and freedom having vanished like a puff of smoke, he was re-enervated by Madame Bones. Professor Flitwick then removed the Levitation Charm, after which Lockhart was hauled away by the troupe of aurors that Madame Bones bought with her.

After Madame Bones left, the room broke into rapturous applause, with Professor Dumbledore milking the occasion for all it was worth by standing up and bowing. Even Rita Skeeter was moved to tepid applause, while Professors Flitwick and Snape were smiling and clapping their hands like everybody else; Flitwick more so.

_Wow…I don't think Captain Hook's smiled that much since the Summer of '69_, Bart thought, bemused by the professor's display of relative effervescence.

* * *

After the applause had died down, Professor Dumbledore invited the press conference to begin questioning the students. Predictably, Rita Skeeter began first.

"So Bart, you are clearly an American citizen, am I right?" the savage scribe began.

"No comet; I mean, comment", Bart replied. Chuckles diffused among the student body, although most of the staff rolled their eyes, as did Daphne, Hermione and Draco's posse. Harry, meanwhile, remained resolutely neutral in his facial expression, although internally he feared that his role in fighting Voldemort would be exposed.

Skeeter narrowed her eyes at that response.

_Coached by Dumbledore I see. No matter; my Quick-Quotes Quill will…wait, where did it go?_

She immediately turned and gave Professor Dumbledore the deadliest of death glares, but the headmaster simply gave her an innocent expression, belying his less-than-innocent thoughts.

_Now, Ms. Skeeter, we can't have you spreading libel about Bart now, can we? That_ _wasn't what you were invited here for._

Williamsum then repeated the question, at which point Skeeter furiously collected her remaining belongings and stormed out of the hall in a huff, as large portions of the student body and staff faculty sniggered, her writings having touched so many of them in negative ways. Gemma and Ron visibly snickered as she left, while the headmaster displayed one of his patented looks of serene contentment.

After Bart responded in the affirmative, Williamsum asked another.

"Why are you in Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny then?"

"Well", Bart admitted sheepishly, "I was a bad widdle boy."

"How?" replied Mr. Williamsum, as sniggers spread throughout the hall, with the usual suspects rolling their eyes.

"Well…I crashed my broomstick into the headmaster's butt."

At this, the Great Hall went off like a bomb, with prior silence being replaced by laughter so loud that it almost drove Bart deaf. However, not everyone laughed. Hermione and Daphne rolled their eyes again, while Professor Snape seemingly wanted to spontaneously disembowel Bart. Harry, meanwhile, retained the same studied, resolute mien as before. It was almost like he was an oasis of serenity in an otherwise raucous hall.

_How long can he keep this up for? _Bart wondered, knowing full well how excitable Harry could be.

The next questions were answered as agreed by Ron, Gemma, Bart and Professor Dumbledore. The story outlined to the press was ultimately as follows.

Firstly, Gemma confronted Bart at the third-floor corridor on the right hand side and convinced Bart that she could help him stop Voldemort.

Secondly, Ron, who was sneaking around using Harry's invisibility cloak while Harry was sleeping, caught them and blackmailed them into letting him come along.

Thirdly, Bart and Gemma did most of the heavy lifting. It was Ron that dived for the key after Gemma brought it down with a stunner. Ron's knowledge of chess and Bart's trickery with swords and spells saved the day there, while Gemma and Bart jointly used the Confundus Charm on the giant and the armoured suit, so it would leave them alone.

Finally, Gemma solved the potions riddle, before they jumped into the fire, only to face Quirrell. The wicked wizard tried to kill them both with Killing Curses, but Bart retaliated by casting the _Bāsākā_ curse, challenging his former teacher to a duel. Just before Bart dropped to the floor in exhaustion, Quirrell clutched his heart and fell down dead on the floor. A spirit rose and said some words before trying to attack Bart. Professor Dumbledore, Snape and Ron then burst in. Points had already been awarded, so no need to discuss those.

"Igor Zhirkov, _The Magical Moscow Times_. Who was responsible for telling Quirinus Quirrell how to pass the Cerberus?"

"Professor Quirrell used a powerful Confundus charm on Rubeus Hagrid in order to extract that information, Igor", the aged mage neutrally responded. Truth be told, Hagrid had given that information of his own volition, but the professor couldn't very well tell the press that – it would endanger Hagrid's job and welfare.

"So you are saying that that spirit was Lord Voldemort?" Mr. Williamsum asked the headmaster.

"Indeed I am, Valerian."

"And that's means…h-he's still alive?" Mr. Williamsum stuttered. Lord Voldemort's influence might not have stretched far in the United States, but he still murdered many American combatants and indoctrinated some vulnerable Americans into his Death Eater cult.

"Yes."

With that one, simple word, the hall was suddenly awash with panic, with students screeching hysterically or crying about lost loved ones. Harry was one of the few who didn't outwardly react, though Bart could see a glimmer of fear emerge into his eyes, even from where he sat. Not to mention that the bespectacled boy sank almost imperceptibly into his chair.

* * *

Eventually, Dumbledore used a _Sonorus_ charm before roaring "SILENCE! The press conference is still ongoing!" After the din, had died down, another journalist introduced herself in an alluring French accent.

"Monique Giroud, _Le Monde Magique_. Mr. Simpson, are you truly having us believe that Harry Potter, the hero who made You-Know-Who disappear, did not play any part in this affair?"

"_That's what I'm saying, toots_", Bart flippantly replied in fluent French, before translating to English. Murmurs swept across the room and even Miss Giroud was taken aback.

_That should shut the bitch up. It would shut any American journo up._

However, it gave rise to an unexpected question from Miss Giroud.

"Are…are you the Bartholomew Simpson that was hailed as a national hero last year, after stopping those evil winemakers? Are you the one that won a medal, appeared on magazines and got kissed by a beauty queen?"

"_Why, yes I am_", Bart smugly replied, leading to a shockwave of muttering and even applause. Harry himself, previously a picture of uncharacteristic calm throughout the conference, gave him a small smile of appreciation. Everybody else seemed shocked; even Daphne, Gemma, Hermione and Draco – they didn't think that the American student from an unpretentious Muggle-born background would be able to speak French like them.

"Mr. Simpson, France will always owe you a debt", Miss Giroud began while inclining her head in respect, before taking advantage of any complacency to swoop in for the kill. "Now, was Harry Potter _really _sleeping in the dorms?"

_Time for another quick ass-pull, Barty-boy._

"Ron said he was; they're from the same house. Ron and Harry fell out with one another and they weren't talking at that time. But how the hell should I know? I'm not Ron."

Yet again, he received a glare from Miss Giroud and Professor Snape, and rolled eyes and chuckling from the rest of the hall. However, the reaction Bart was searching for was Harry's.

To his relief, it looked as if Harry had relaxed completely. He gave Bart a small smile and nod of gratitude. It may not have meant much, but to Bart it meant the world.

_Maybe there's a chance of us repairing our friendship after all_, Bart thought, feeling considerably more light-headed than he had for a long while.

* * *

However, the last question came from an altogether unexpected source.

"Xenophilius Lovegood, the Quibbler."

After he uttered that sentence, the room exploded into laughter. The Quibbler was anything _but _a serious periodical; in fact, it was a tabloid that typically published rumours as facts. Even Ron and Gemma exploded in laughter.

After the room's laughter died down, sniggers notwithstanding, the Headmaster decided to intervene before Xenophilius could ask Bart a question.

"Xenophilius, is there any particular reason why you may be here, indoors, when summer weather is coming?"

"Well, what sort of serious editor and fact-finder would not want to get the scoop on how You-Know-Who was defeated?" Xenophilius replied in a whimsical tone, candyfloss-textured hair hanging beside him all the while.

The Professor sighed. "Xenophilius, we don't even know whether you print in your books is true or false. I doubt even you know. What if you print something ridiculous about Bart and harm his reputation?"

Xenophilius bowed his head. "Headmaster, I have a normal pen here. What Bart says, goes in the Quibbler. But may I be allowed freedom to editoralise?"

"If your editorials are not damaging to young Bart's reputation, then yes. But I shall review the first editorial. If it does not meet my standards, it shall not be published."

Xenophilius bowed his head deferentially. "Very well, Headmaster."

_But I can still have fun with the questions I'm asking, _the editorialist thought with a cheeky smile, as he asked the question that no serious journalist dared ask.

"Bart, what's with that snake mask on your head?" prompting loud laughter from the Weasley twins, but rolled eyes and milder laughter elsewhere. Snape, of course, glared at Bart; eyes evoking malice.

_Attention-seeking brat, _the acerbic professor thought. _Who would have thought that a Slytherin_ _would be the end of me?_

However, Bart's subsequent answer gave him some pause.

"I wore a snake mask to respect my house, but also to show to the school that Slytherins and Gryffindors, like Gemma and Ron here, _CAN-WORK-TOGETHER!_ Bart shouted, suddenly jumping on the table.

"NOW, IF THESE TWO HOUSE RIVALS CAN WORK TOGETHER IN BEATING VOLDEMORT; THEN WHY-CAN'T THE ENTIRE SCHOOL! AGAINST TWO HOUSES, VOLDEMORT SHOWED THAT HE COULD BE BEATEN! AGAINST AN ENTIRE SCHOOL, HE HAS NO CHANCE! SO LET'S-DO-THIS-THING! VOLD-NO-MORE! VOLD-NO-MORE! VOLD-NO-MORE! COME ON, SHOUT WITH ME!"

Bart then pumped his fist up in the air for effect. Almost the entire school cheered raucously at this display and started chanting after each call of VOLD-NO-MORE! Truth be told, Bart was playing them like a fiddle – even Hermione half-heartedly joined in.

The Slytherins however, did not move. Some of them did give Bart small smiles of appreciation, some rolled their eyes, and some, namely the Death Eater sympathisers, were glaring at Bart hatefully, with Draco's gaze being more intense than any other.

_A Mudblood stealing my thunder and mocking Slytherin house with that bloody mask. This should _not_ be allowed to stand._

"The Mudblood will get what's coming to him, dear", the pug-faced girl next to him cooed.

"Of course he will, Pansy. I'll make sure of it!"

Professor Snape himself felt conflicted about Bart's speech. He could accept that the snake mask was a sincere mark of respect, but given Bart's insincerity one could never be certain.

A unity platform between Slytherins and Gryffindors would have been unthinkable in his day, but Bart was a relatively unique Slytherin – a pragmatist who was willing to form alliances with members of rival houses to further his interests, or even when it was the right thing to do.

Stopping Voldemort was incontestably correct, although he doubted Bart's motives for doing so were pure – an issue to be raised with the Headmaster in the next meeting involving the boy.

Of course, he despised Bart's loud, populist approach to geeing up the school, but he had to concede that the brat was good at it.

Professor Dumbledore felt it prudent to end the press conference on that triumphant note.

_Despite young Bart's antics, I believe that press conference could have gone a lot worse. Gilderoy was exposed, Harry's role in the affair was kept secret throughout, the press bought our story about our confrontation with Voldemort and now everybody knows that Voldemort has returned, and are galvanised against him for the time being thanks to Bart marshalling the faculty, rather than leaving the room in fear. _

With that, he left the hall with his characteristic flourish.

_Your move, Tom…_

* * *

**Author's Notes for Chapter Seventeen**

First, sorry for the 9 month delay. I've been busy with work, travelling through Europe and have had to deal with personal problems. All apologies, guys.

Italic quotations represent Bart speaking French.

I do have part of Chapter Eighteen written, so I hope that will be faster off the rank.

It would just seem like common sense to not allow somebody like Gilderoy Lockhart within a million miles of a school. Far smarter to expose him in front of the press, which he has always dined on. Too bad the dish was poison…

Lockhart's departure (for now if not forever) is a significant break from canon, but I feel that it's worth it given the fundamental ridiculousness of his hiring. Bart vs Lockhart would have admittedly been a hoot, so I decided to show a snippet of what might have been had Lockhart become a teacher, as in canon.

It would seem like common sense to undermine Rita Skeeter's ability to print lies. I'm astonished that it wasn't attempted in canon more.

I've decided to expose Voldemort early. It would be the moral, ethical thing to do despite potential political problems. Dumbledore is manipulative, but at heart he will do the right thing by the greatest number of people most of the time – which exposing Voldemort IMO is. Better for him to be exposed now than when he's powerful, I say.

If you're a Chelsea FC fan, you'll recognise some of the surnames here. ;)

Bart shouting 'VOLD-NO-MORE' is a reference to the Asbestos chant from 'Lisa's Substitute'. I didn't invoke that directly though, because in this universe Bart would not have had a prayer of becoming 'Class President', since his classmates usually hated or feared him.

I've upped the swearing a tad here. You will see more of it as Bart gets older.

Canonically, Hermione speaks French. In my experience, a number of wealthier Brits do speak French, so I've made out that Daphne/Draco/Gemma can as well.

bauers374: RE Revelations 1:16 – the chapter was full of revelations, this is Book 1, and we were at Chapter 16.

Nonyaarb: I aim to please all 5 of my readers!


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